Story Ideas
by Illuviar
Summary: I'll be posting here various ideas and plot bunnies that I might turn into full fledged ideas at a later time.
1. Redemption WormSupreme Commander

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Supreme Commander. They belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I make no money from this story. It's created with no commercial purpose in mind.**

 **Redemption**

 **Prologue: Opening moves**

 **Time: Irrelevant**

 **Location: Irrelevant**

"A chance to redeem yourself." Lilith, my companion for the past two hundred years purred. "Oh, I can see you needing to uphold our oath. But redemption? You did nothing wrong! Any other commander would have cheerfully triggered the Black Sun at first opportunity. You gave them all a chance to surrender. The destruction of the other factions Core worlds is on their leader's heads alone!"

It was an old conflict. Ever since the last battle of the Infinite war, she has been trying to convince me that I wasn't a monster. That I wasn't the greatest mass murderer humanity ever saw. And that was something on the background of a one thousand years long total war and all the megadeaths that came with it.

I knew her reasoning. That of my superiors, the damn psychiatrist I had to visit. Hell for once even the media agreed.

I was a hero, they said. Tried to convince me that in the long run I've saved more lives by finally ending the war.

"They are right, you know." Lilith mused quietly.

I was ready to snap at her, but stopped myself at the last moment. She didn't need any shit from me. Lilith was my eternal companion. My salvation. And she will be with me unto the moment of my death, sharing my thoughts and feelings.

The smart AI lurking within my implants grinned impishly. "Ah, you care!"

" _He does!"_ a child's voice echoed in the vast void surrounding us. The sound was full of boundless energy, soothing my aching heart _."You crave redemption!"_ she said in a sing-song voice. _"I know just the place!"_ she skipped through the void, a beaming smile on her angelic face. _"A world that can use someone like you two!"_ she waved a hand and everything went blank. _"Go forth and release my little sister from her torment… Uphold your vow and nothing will be the same again!"_

 **=RD=**

 **January 11, 2011**

 **High Orbit**

 **Earth Bet**

The being some called Ziz, floated on the edge of the aether, plotting. Plans within plans flashed through her mind, all discarded when she checked the odds.

She glanced at the world below her, frown marring her features.

She hated it. All that she was forced to do. At least her siblings were simple beings, unable to truly comprehend… Just beings following their nature. However Simulator was different. Blessed and cursed in equal measures. She was self aware. Not only intelligent but sentient. A claim Behemoth and Leviathan couldn't make, no matter that they were just as far above mere beasts as the inhabitants of the world below.

Those so interesting and entertaining humans. She could spent eon watching their antics, while free to tinker at her leisure. Instead she was forced to rampage every few months. Little more than a slave. At least her brothers didn't have the capacity to care. In a way, Ziz envied them. They were simple beings, one content to slumber in the hot depths of the earth. The other currently was leisurely swimming and playing with a shoal of dolphins.

She smiled sadly. On the bright side, they would be left alone in the coming months. The smile vanished. It was her turn to do as commanded. To sow destruction and despair, making new parahumans. So her master, the parasite that he was could learn and feed.

Ziz turned her sight to the stars, wondering what secrets they hid. She checked the odds. As things stood, the chance of her ever finding out was 0,051 percent. Her wings fluttered in resignation. Simurgh glanced up one more time and returned to crunching numbers. She wouldn't have it! There must be a way! Plans withing plans, simulated futures… all useless. Not that it stopped her from trying to find a path froward.

Her feathers fluttered in frustration. She looked down trying to distract herself from the futility of it all.

A jet was flying a long way down, one of the few coming anywhere "near" her chosen sanctuary. She extended her senses, finding nothing interesting within. Just couple of pilots and cargo.

Her mind drifted, seeking a distraction. Shards were raining again, invisible for the humans on this world. Nothing new there either. Just run of the mill… Ah, what do we have here?! Ziz smiled. The Queen Administration shard was tumbling through the air, seeking a host. Numbers danced, probabilities shifted and the Simurgh smiled, sending chills down the spines of the people who could see her watching the Earth with such an expression on her face.

Ziz was going to have a new sister! Perhaps the future wouldn't be so lonely and boring after all! Her mind coiled, the precog jumping up a notch. Her wings sagged, a hint of regret worming its way through her core. A part of Ziz felt bad for her her future sister, for what she was enduring in order to win the attention of the Queen Administrator shard… Yet she couldn't help it. For there was a new feeling she was experiencing. A pure, unmarred joy!

Soon enough, she wouldn't be alone! Just few months, a year at the outside and she would have a little sister! Her wings shook with excitement, sending few stray feather tumbling down to Earth.

 **=RD=**

 **January 11, 2011**

 **Winston High School**

 **Brockton Bay**

 **Earth Bet**

They didn't care… She screamed herself hoarse, yet no one came… Taylor shuddered, too exhausted to do anything more. She felt numb. The crawling, the biting, the stench… They were all distant. She was cold, freezing even. Too tired to fight.

She simply didn't care any more. All she wanted was for everything to end. The constant torment, the sneers, laughter… That no one seemed to believe her. She was so tired from it all. A part of her wanted to scream and rage. To struggle and get away from the locker. But what was the point? No one would do a thing about it. It would only get worse… Taylor drifted, gripped by despair.

Her world narrowed, then sped up. She was staring at vast shapes, huge beyond comprehension. They were swimming through an endless, expanse covered with countless glittering stars. A rain of jewels all in different shapes and colors rained from those beings. One of those glittered brighter and brighter, like a falling star.

Taylor blinked. It was coming closer.

" _ **It's fine little one. Everything is going to be all right."**_ an inhuman voice, firm yet gentle whispered in her mind.

Her whole world went white and Taylor knew no more.

 **=RD=**

 **January 15, 2011**

 **Trainyard**

 **Brockton Bay**

 **Earth Bet**


	2. Mad Science Mass Effect Star Wars

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Mass Effect. They belong to their copyright owners and/or creators. I make no money from this story. It is written with no commercial purpose in mind.**

 **Mad Science**

 **Prologue: Fear the Combat Engineers**

 **=T=**

 _"Rise and Shine!"_

I came back to the world of the living slowly, fighting my way through a wall made of sticky cotton. Well, at least that's how my addled brain interpreted whatever was happening at the time. There was that persisting, irritating repetitive sound too. Ah. Sirens.

The hell was happening?

 _"Congratulations, Delkatar, you won the jackpot again!" a woman laughed._

Her voice. I could almost recognize it. It was just like imagined that of certain ROB to sound.

 _"Nope. There is nothing random about me!"_ I could imagine her pouting.

"Urgh?" was my eloquent surprise.

My voice wasn't working right. With that though a switch was thrown and I could feel. My body ached all over. Every single muscle and bone. It was like someone had turned me into one giant bruise and stuck a bunch of needles in me just for the fun.

 _"We don't have a whole day here."_ she paused. _"At least you don't."_

"Shepard!" I could barely hear someone shouting.

"What?" I managed to gurgle. Nope, voice still far from all right.

 _"Oh, fine! I'll get to the point. Mass Effect 2, you know? The game you started to play again last night?"_

I had a sneaking suspicion that was I fucked.

 _"Oh, don't be so cross. As I said you won the lottery. Literally. I have a gift for you."_ she giggled.

I could feel a feather light touch upon my forehead. Something touched my mind. A lance of cold, ruthless logic, information, knowledge. It burst within my head, making me scream myself hoarse.

Formulas. Concepts. Equations. More.

The pain intensified until it was the only thing I knew.

 _"That's for my Knight Veil. After all, you are the one to blame for all that has happened to him. Or at least will be."_

I could feel her cold rage. The facade she had shown me crumbled away. Somehow knew that it was tightly controlled. As if the being wanted to tear me asunder if she only could. It was ridiculous dream born from my shattering mind. If she wanted to off me, it wasn't like she couldn't. All it would take was a thought after all. She was that powerful a being.

 _ **"**_ _ **Rise and shine!"**_ another voice. Male, much darker if that was an attribute you could attribute to it. _**"Finally its time to begin."**_

"I'm a little lost here." I somehow managed to croak the words.

 _ **"Don't worry too much, little spark. Cause and reason often don't follow a linear path. You'll know when the time is right."**_

 _"_ _This is the first step."_ whispered the woman. _"Lets hope it will lead you to a different path."_

I had the feeling that I was watching a train wreck going off in slow motion. With me being the train in question. Not a fun place to be.

 **=T=**

"Shepard! Get the fuck up soldier! On the double!" shouted the same familiar voice.

My head pounded as if my brain was doing its best to escape from my skull. Can't really blame it after the blender its been through. I opened my eyes and groaned. It was half in pain from the light, half from getting confirmation on where I was. So it was Miranda on the speakers.

That wasn't good at all. Heh. Understatement of the year.

"Good, you are finally up. There is no time to chat, this station is under attack. There is a pistol and armor in the other side of the room. Hurry!" she shouted.

I got up from the medical bed and nearly fell to the ground. My legs were unsteady, not to mention the gut wrenching pain in my insides.

Bloody hell it hurt. I made my way to the locker in the corner, ignoring Miranda's insistence that I hurry up. I stared at the cylindrical object hiding my armor and weapon, wondering how the hell I was supposed to open it.

Then something clicked in my brain. Scanner in the upper right corner. I just needed to wave my hand there. Grudgingly I did so. A laser quickly scanned my palm and a moment later the locker opened with a quiet click. That done I glanced inside. Yeah, the same N7 armor I saw last night while playing the game and a futuristic looking gun. There was just the little problem that I had no idea how the hell I was supposed to get myself in that hardsuit and activate its system.

I looked at the different pieces and suddenly they started making sense. I knew which part should go where, what was the fastest way to don the armor, how I was supposed to activate it and synch its on board systems with my omni.

Knowledge I didn't have when I went to sleep last night. So some being which might have reasons to hate my guts messed up with my mind, possibly rewriting parts of it. Or she, it was simply messing up with me.

Joy.

"Hurry up! Mechs are converging on your position."

I glanced at one of the cameras in the room and shook my head. For a moment I wondered why I wasn't freaking out then I remembered that Shepard wasn't supposed to be up and running yet. So there probably were sedatives in my system that were keeping me calm. Possibly messing up with my mind too, but that could wait until there weren't killer robots coming for me.

I frowned. There were ideas, schematics in my head not my own. Avenues of research, ways to ensure that my hardsuit should be able to purge unwanted chemicals from my system. That led me thinking on how to upgrade the armor system itself... Oh, that's neat! I needed to build it in too!

"Shepard!" Miranda screeched, loosing her composure.

I shook my head. That girl got nice set of lungs in her chest. Ah, what a chest too...

Shaking my head I returned my attention to the locker. Armor right.

 **Phase 1: First steps**

 **=MS=**

 **Part 1**

 **Time Unknown**

 **Location: Cerberus facility, project Lazarus HQ**

For some reason, having a fully functional armor on me made me feel much better. The part of my mind pouting that it was very basic and needed upgrades, NOW DAMN IT!, notwithstanding. I apparently had an omni tool, too. One quite basic, loaded with little better than commercially available overload protocols, a basic incinerate protocol and a combat drone which would be good only as a brief distraction. I winced as my mind was about to overload with ideas on how to improve them all.

Bloody hell what did this woman do to me?!

Meanwhile, Miranda was droning something about danger. A flash of red and I found myself on the ground. Ouch. That hurt. My HUD was flashing madly indicating that my shields were depleted and rebuilding. I glanced around and found that most of the door was gone, leaving behind a twisted ruin of smoking scrap.

Better shields, integration of kinetic dampeners in the armor… I groaned and got myself up. I needed to concentrate in order to get out of this mess in one piece. It wasn't as if I had the time to start building anything.

My mind started supplying possible avenues of research that might lead to time dilation.

Well, fuck. Time wasn't something I ever wanted to mess up with. Equation started flashing in through my mind trying to convince me with math that it is indeed possible to screw with time. It also increased my headache by a factor of two.

'Concentrate!' I screamed in my mind, the torrent of information receding to the background.

I made my way to the door, flash forging a spherical drone. It took me seconds to tweak its programing so I could use it as a scout too, up-linking what it saw with its main camera to my HUD. It was a bit disturbing how easy I tweaked my omni's programing to do so. Making such changes on the fly… I shook my head. It was a very far cry from the last time I programmed anything – more than a decade ago in high school.

Hopefully, the drone would help me keep my head on my shoulders. I sent it forward and followed seeing no hostiles in sight. Only the corpse of a man wearing the white and black Cerberus uniform. Then another. Both were slumped on the ground, fresh blood spilling from woulds in their chest.

I know that I should feel something at the sight. Perhaps feel nauseous too. But there was nothing. Just dispassionate note that I should avoid going around without decent armor unless I wanted to end like them. My mind tried to spew details about the way they died, conclusions the extent of their injuries. It wanted me to dissect them and find exactly how much damage the bullets had caused. Because it would help me find the best way to both improve the ammunition and the ways to defend against mass effect weaponry.

It was eery. Creepy. I should feel disturbed by those thoughts. Yet, I simply filled them for later consideration, while looting the corpses. Ah. Thermal clips. Inefficient as far as the knowledge in my head was concerned. And a credit chip. Useful. I needed a ton of resources considering what some of the ideas bouncing in my skull would require.

I massaged my head as the pain increased. Is this how it feels to be slowly going insane?

My drone send chimed, announcing that it had detected a hostile. I did my best to concentrate and ignore the bubbling mass of ideas in my head. I reloaded my gun and vaulted over the makeshift barricade in front of the med bay. The mech, which was the detected hostile was shambling my way. I sent my drone to distract it, and once it had his attention firmly on the floating sphere, I shoot it in the head.

Huh. I actually managed a head shot. Further its been ages since I shot a gun, but the recoil didn't surprise me. It was actually light. Beginner's luck perhaps something was left from Shepard's skills. Besides his disjointed memories which were slowly taking shape. I was starting to recognize things I have never seen before, outside a computer screen, yet I knew what they were. Besides a props to make the setting of the game look more science fiction like. I just knew that those were pieces of Shepard's memories, his knowledge and not whatever other crap that being forced in my skull.

Later. I needed to go away from this station.

=MS=

Thank god for cheap mechs with rudimentary combat protocols. I don't think that I could have fought my way through few groups of crappy merks in my condition. Luckily I didn't have to. Using my drone as distraction, few well placed overloads and voila. The murder bots were so much scrap metal.

More hallways, scattered corpses and the odd mech, until I found myself on top of a platform overlooking a corridor wide enough for six men to march abreast. There were hydrogen tanks on the left side. Oh, what I could do with that much fuel… I shook my head and looked away only to see another dead operative. This one was clutching a grenade launcher! Ohh, shinny!

I unceremoniously tore it from his cold dead fingers, paying no attention to the bones I had to break to do so. I caressed the weapon, deciding what mods it needed. And the ammo… proximity mines, acid warheads, the good old white phosphorous… Oh the list went on and on…

If it wasn't for Miranda screaming at me I would have stood there until the mech shot me.

Speaking about the inferior murder bots, I glared at the quartet that was marching my way. One grenade and they were gone.

All color drained from my face. The explosion breached one of the fuel tanks, luckily only letting a jet of burning high pressurized gas to block the way. Instead of evaporating me in a chain reaction of exploding hydrogen tanks. I had to pay attention to what I was doing or I won't be able to build anything.

I stiffened at that thought. Such a state of affairs simply couldn't be allowed to stand! The jumble of ideas retreated a bit, allowing me to thing clearly.

Relatively speaking.

I took the elevator down and went to the jet of burning fuel. I didn't want to run through that crap without a helmet. Oh, my new found knowledge and intelligence were telling me that I should be all right… But fire… Urgh… I couldn't see any way to extinguish the fire from here. Not with what little I had.

Taking a deep breath, I sprinted through, before my nerve failed me.

Damn, even with the shields holding, it was damn hot!

Note to self, always keep a helmet handy.

I moved on, founding that there was only one path forward I could use. At least no more enemies for the time being. Until I reached the next corridor. The door to the left was dark, obviously no energy was reaching it. There was a way to the right and another door in front of me. This one was glowing green. Not only powered, but unlocked too.

I couldn't help it. The need to check if there was some useful tech or at least parts was overwhelming. The door opened, revealing a small office, a bureay with working computer on it, a row with documents, paper ones even! There were holographic screens along the walls showing scans of someones body. One pretty messed up at that. Oh, yeah, a pair of crippled mech scrambling my way. I shot them and looked around. A wall safe, another terminal... Ah. The corpse of a woman who had a terrified expression on her face. I glanced at the body and seeing nothing useful disregarded her. It took me few minutes to download the data from the terminals and I went to the safe. My mind supplied a lot of ways to deal with it, though all but a few required tech I didn't have access to. And no, I wasn't searching for parts to build a plasma cutter or a laser drill!

It was some old fashioned bypassing. Or safe-cracking as they used to say. I flash forged some simple tools and removed the protective covering of the electronic lock. If I had a better omni with the relevant programs, I could have hacked it, but what little was loaded on mine, couldn't deal with something of that caliber.

It took me twenty odd seconds and the safe surrendered its contents. Huh. So the source of my persistent headache could be useful in the field. Good to know.

Though I was a bit disappointed from the contents. Couple of thousand credits, few data drives, which I took too and few pictures of the dead woman and what I supposed was her family. Not important.

Once my curiosity was satisfied, I managed to get away from the office and continued to make my way to safety.

On the bright side, there weren't any other shiny toys to distract me, so I made a good progress until I reached an open area and found the first alive person ever since I awoke here. That must be Jacob.

He was taking cover behind a waist height parapet, made by some kind of rather tough plexiglass or metal you could actually see through. Because the stuff was good enough to absorb a lot of pistol bullets, as a bunch of mechs were busy demonstrating. The machines were on the other side of a deep shaft, which was probably used to transport bulky materials through the station.

I darted forward, wincing as bullets impacted my shields and took position next to Jacob.

"Shepard?! The hell are you doing here?!" he exclaimed after almost shooting me.

Note to self. Don't surprise people in the middle of a firefight.

"I want to know that, too!" I shouted and send an overload at the killer bots suppressing us.

"Well, it's a long story..." Jacob trailed off, stood up so he could shoot a couple of tangoes, before returning to cover so his shields could rebuild.

"I'm Jacob. Jacob Taylor..." he trailed off. "The head of security around here." he muttered.

"Ah. Good job." I deadpanned. "Why there are killer robots using us as a target practice?"

"It should be impossible! You'd first need an access to the mainframe to reprogram them!"

It was scary how many ways around that my brain immediately supplied.

"It doesn't matter right now. I haven't shot me yet, so you are getting the benefit of the doubt."

"We need to get out of there before they overrun us."

"You know this place better than me. No offense, but you aren't going out of my sight before we are out of here."

"Fair enough."

It was a nice, calm conversation, interrupted every few words by one of us getting up and taking out a mech or two. By the time we agreed to work together, the volume of incoming fire had noticeably decreased.

"Move!" I shouted and pushed him towards the exit behind him. Luckily we made it out with our hides intact.

"Now that no one is shooting at us care to answer some questions?"

"Fair enough. Shoot."

"So you are the Chief of security… What do you know about this attack?"

"Besides that it has to be an inside job? Not much. I was preparing for some shut eye, after checking up if everything was all right. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Then bam. A series of explosions and the next thing I know the droids were trying to kill us all." He glanced at two bodies we passe by. "And succeeding."

"Who are you exactly? The name doesn't ring a bell."

He shrugged. "I spent five years in the Alliance before getting this job. Technically I'm Miranda's top lieutenant, but I've been in charge of security while she's been putting you back together. It's usually much more dull than this." He waved at the devastation around us.

"Uhuh. What about Miranda? To me she's just a voice right now."

"That's Miranda Lawson. She is in charge of this station. As the head of Lazarus team, it was her job to bring you back to life. By the look of it she succeeded."

I kept to myself that she actually didn't. After all I wasn't Shepard. Though I didn't think that it would be a good idea to claim otherwise. I didn't want to end up as Cerberus lab rat. I had such plans to fulfill. So much things to build…

"What about you?" Jacob asked. "Miranda told me you lost contact for a bit. That was shortly before she went off the air."

"Just some interference and a lot of mech." I shrugged. I didn't feel like telling him that I couldn't get myself out of that office before looting it for useful tech.

"She's a big girl. Miranda can take care of herself."

"Let's hope so. Where are we going anyway?"

"Shuttle bay."

"Check, check! Is someone still on this frequency?!"

"Yeah, it's me Jacob. Wilson, are you all right? Where are you?"

"Network room B. You?"

"Near D wing. Shepard and me just dealt with a wave of mechs and are making our way to the shuttles."

"Shepard?! How the hell is he still alive? Never mind that. Can you come and pick me up? I don't think I can fight my way out..."

"Hang on, Wilson. We are on our way." Jacob promised.

Wilson… Ah, wasn't he the traitor? I should try keeping him alive this time around. It will be interesting what he has to say. It will be good to build a truth detector, and some way to make him talk…

"Shepard, you all right?"

I shook my head in attempt to clear it.

"Headache. According to Miranda I wasn't good to go yet."

"Ah. That sucks. We need to go. The server room is back that way." he pointed towards an intersection we passed moments ago.

"Who's Winson, anyway?"

"The Chief medical tech. He answers directly to Miranda."

"So he's one of the people that put me back together..."

"Yeah."

 **=MS=**

Reaching the server room proved to be relatively easy. With two of us taking mechs distracted by my drone, we made a short work of the opposition.

We found Winston on the ground, clutching his leg. He's been shot after taking out three mechs, whose smoking remains were near the door we passed through. Two of the machines were fried by an overload with the last shot to pieces. Nice work for a medic.

"Thanks god you are here! They shot me!" Winston moaned, clutching his leg.

"There is medigel dispenser over there, Shepard. Go get some." Jacob pointed at the far wall. He knelt near Winston and started examining his wound.

I went to replenish my medical reserves, but still kept an eye on them. The drone hovering behind Jacob helped in that respect.

The dispenser had six doses of gel, which I loaded in my armor. The fist was used automatically on me. I was apparently worse than I felt. Lucky me.

Next, I went to Winston and used my omni tool to administer the medicine on him. It actually acted as fast as the game suggested, his wound sealing in seconds. The med gel was amazing, yet there were plans to improve it too. Too bad that there weren't for something that get rid of my headache.

My mind was still for a moment then I was imagining some compound with complicated molecular structure. The pain in my skull spiked again.

"God damn it", I muttered, clutching my head.

"Shepard, you all right?" Winston asked.

"My head is killing me but it can wait until we are safely away."

"Heh, thanks Shepard. I guess we are even now."

"Winston, what the hell were you doing here anyway?" Jacob asked.

"I tried to shut down the mechs! I already told you that. But the system is completely fried. No way around that."

"You should have been in the bio wing! How do you have access to the mechs anyway?"

"Weren't you listening..."

"Enough. It's not like I trust any of you right now." I muttered. My attention was focused on the security control station. It was fried all right… But useless? It was far from that.

I kelt and removed a panel. I scanned the circuitry with my omni and grinned. Yeah, it was partially fried. Now if I could only… I stood up and looked around the room.

There were few terminals that were still working. Splendid.

"Shepard, what are you doing?"

"I don't fancy the idea of fighting our way out if I can help it." I muttered. It took me few minute to scavenge the necessary parts, a bit of improvisation for the two devices that didn't really do what I needed them to and voila! The security station came back to life. I didn't really need to hack it, because Jacob had the necessary codes. That was the good news. The bad was that the sensor and wireless links were down across most of the station, so I couldn't just shut down everything. Including whatever security systems were in the last stretch of our way. As far as the terminal was aware, the docks were dark area.

"That should make our lives easier."

"Heh. Great work, Shepard. I forgot that you were combat engineer." Jacob slapped my shoulder.

"Lead the way. I'm sick of this place."

 **=MS=**

 **Cerberus Shuttle**

 **In transit**

Getting to the docks proved to be child's play. We had to face only half a dozen mechs, which couldn't really slow us down. Then things became tricky. When the door leading to the shuttle bay opened, it revealed Miranda Lawson in her full, skintight suited glory. If my brain wasn't ready to explode due to too may ideas bouncing around, I would have just stood there, starring at her.

Let me tell you a secret. The game didn't make her justice. Miranda was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Ah, right. She, with Aria Talok, was one of the top contestants for the title Queen Bitch of the Universe too. But that's another story.

"Hi, Wilson." She smiled and raised her pistol without telegraphing her movement in any way shape or form I could detect. That broke my spell and I pushed him away just in time. Just in time too. Instead of splattering his brains on the deck, her bullet only grazed him, tearing out his left ear.

Wilson screamed and scrambled for his own gun. I shook my head and struck him with an Overload. While it was much more effective against synthetics, the emp shock was perfectly able to stun human sized targets too.

"Miranda! Damn it! Shepard what the hell are you two doing?!" he had raised his pistol but apparently was unsure who of us maniacs was more dangerous right now.

I had to push my way between myself and Wilson to prevent Miranda from finishing her job, something that pissed her off if her expression was anything to go by.

"Shepard, move!" she ordered me.

"I'm not under your command, missy. Besides I want him alive for questioning."

"It's too dangerous. I can't let him spoil two years of work for..."

"Can it. He is going with us."

"Or what?"

I grinned. It was a good thing that Shepard had quite the reputation.

"Or I'll have to drag three knocked out idiots to the shuttle. I'm not wasting a potential intelligence asset to make you feel more comfortable. Besides, its not like I trust any of you."

Miranda lowered her gun and transferred her glare at Jacob who winced.

"Ah. Jacob. I should have guessed that you wouldn't be able to keep your mouth shut."


	3. Empire Rising Star Trek AU

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, Motion pictures, Novels or Games. They belong to their respective creators and Copyright owners. This story is created with no monetary gain in mind. I make no money from it. It is not to be sold or rented.**

 **Book I: How the Dreams Die**

Prologue: How to lose a war in a single afternoon

 **=HDD=**

 _This is a story about the end of an age, the awakening from a dream that lasted centuries. It is a tale illustrating what happened when humanity's illusion of Utopia was shattered... about the people who had to pick up the pieces of a fragmented Federation and the new age which dawned as the Dominion armadas advanced towards Earth..._

But let's start at the beginning. Before the War, everything that followed would have been considered unthinkable. At best, lunacy fit for those Mirror Universe madmen. Yet, it all happened, with some of us playing crucial roles in the events that were about to unfold (even if it didn't seem so at the time!). Let me tell you, when the hostilities commenced, we were caught largely off guard. You all know how Starfleet was back then – a bloody exploration outfith, chock full with pleasure cruisers which had weapons and defensive systems added as an afterthought. Moreover, a huge part of the fleet was made up from dedicated science ships or hulls, which though refitted multiple times, were a century old...

 _Adm. John Sinclair, retired_

 **Login: Central Actual  
Password: Thunderchild  
Codeword: Delta Blue  
Classification: Level Black  
Pending scan results...  
Identity confirmed...  
Logging you in Commander...**

Accessing Secured Imperial Archive Database...  
Password required...

Password Accepted...  
Access Granted...  
Searching...

 **Voice 1:** I warned you.

 **Voice 2:** You did. The politicians didn't listen.

 **Voice 3:** They didn't want to listen.

 **Voice 2:** It's been too long since the Federation's public felt truly threatened. As far as the average citizens are concerned, Starfleet managed to beat any threat, even the Borg.

 **Voice 1:** We became victims of our own propaganda. Amongst a lot of other things.

 **Voice 3:** Indeed. Though that's not why we are here. Besides we already had that conversation.

 **Voice 2:** Let's cut to the chase.

 **Voice 3:** We need your particular skills and what you represent.

 **Voice 1:** I'll do whatever it takes to stop the Dominion.

 **Voice 2:** We are counting on it.

 _ **Playback over... Data corrupted...**_

 **=HDD=**

 **Captain's Ready room  
USS Enterprise, Starfleet Flagship  
En route to Second fleet's staging area  
Location Classified**

Jean-Luc Picard took a sip from a steaming muck filled with Earl Grey tea, while silently cursing the madness that had enveloped the galaxy as a whole. Even now, months after the hostilities started and after all the battles the Enterprise and her crew were through, it was hard to believe.

War. A senseless conflict which was trying its best to tear down the Utopia carefully build by the Federation. The future was supposed to be bright and peaceful. Filled with exploration and meeting new species.

Not this!

Picard was glaring at the datapad in his hands. It showed an endless list of shattered ship and broken men. Many of them were his friends. People with whom he had been in the academy, collegues he had served with on various ships.

"Do you see it now, Mon Capitan?" asked a hated voice.

"Q!" Picard snapped.

Whatever that infernal being wanted, it wasn't good for either Jean-Luc or his crew. Or any being in the vicinity either.

The Captain looked up from the data pad to see the painfully familiar sight of Q sitting on the other side of his desk. The omnipotent being was wearing the crimson uniform of Starfleet admiral, though it was old fashioned. It was something straight from the time when the Khitomer Accords were signed.

"Me?! Where?" Q exclaimed and looked around in a mock surprise.

"Q, I don't have time for your antics!"

"You don't know the half of it, Mon Capitan!" a vicious smile appeared on the uninvited visitor's face. "How does it feel, Jean-Luc, to stand at the Dawn of a new era?"

Picard narrowed his eyes. He had a bad feeling about this. Despite his seemingly nonchalant mannierism, this time there was something different about Q. His eyes shone with unrestrained glee. And the way Q spoke, his tone was like that of a kid who couldn't wait to share a big secret.

It all made Picard feel uneasy.

"Oh, you haven't heard yet?" Q looked surprised. He glanced at his left wrist, where now stood an old fashioned watch. "Ah, my bad, old friend. It's happening just as we speak! Let's go see history in the making!" with those words, Q snapped his fingers and they disappeared in a flash of light.

To Picard surprise, they appeared in the void of space. However before the Captain could react, his attention was grabbed by what was in front of them. They were giants overlooking a vast light-show. It took him a moment, before the Starfleet officer comprehended what he was seeing.

It was a great space battle between the Federation, their Klingon Allies and the Dominion and the misleaded Cardassians.

"Q, what is the meaning of this?"

The question was ignored. Instead, Q pointed a giant finger at a particular spot of the melee. "There. Watch closely or you might miss it. Here history is being made!"

Picard frowned, though he looked more closely at the battle. Whole squadrons of Starfleet capital ships, wings of fighters and smaller detachments of Klingon ships were throwing themselves into a breach within the enemy lines. For a moment it looked like they would succeed into splitting the Dominion force into two... until Picard's experienced eyes noticed the folly of that paticular attack.

The Starfleet vessels and their allies were flying straight into a lethal crossfire, while the enemy was attempting to surround them, using their significant numerical advantage. Jean-Luc looked more carefully at what Q was pointing at, noticing that a Deffiant Escort was leading the charge, flanked by two Klingon Birds of prey.

Two wings of Dominion fighters pounced on those ships, cutting the Klingon light crafts to pieces within seconds. The Federation Escort valiantly evaded the brunt of the enemy fire for few moments, a testament for her helmsman incredible skill and luck.

It didn't last. Lances of pure energy strafed over the struggling shields of the Deffiant Class. The defences, which had been hammered once too many times folded, allowing two purple beams to hit the Starfleet vessel amidship. It listed, suddenly slowing down.

That proved to be it's undoing.

Either by design or accident, one of the pursuing fighters flew straight at the crippled ship. It plowed into it at a steep angle, shattering both vessels before the pieces were immolated into the flames of breached warpcores.

The view of the battle zoomed out. It revealed that all Federation ships which entered the breach were destroyed. The rest of the Alliance forces, now outnumbered more than ever, were acting without direction.

"What is this?" Picard asked. There was a hint of dread in his voice. The Captain suspected that he knew very well what he just saw, and the consequences didn't bare thinking about.

"It's the end of the Line, Jean-Luc. The dawn of a new era. The Federation as a whole and the Humanity in particular had been slumbering for too long. It's time to awake from your comfortable dreams of Utopia," Q smirked. "The Federation as it is today, just lost the war. This is a defeat from which you can't recover while you maintain your high and mighty ideals. This time, there won't be a divine intervention. No Q or those unrully kids, the Prophets saving the day. Welcome to the future, Mon Captain!"

Q snapped his fingers and Picard was back in his ready room. He stood there, stunned for a moment before shacking his head and tapping his comm badge.

"Number One...

=IR=

 **Bridge**

 **USS Millenium, Akira class cruiser**

"Alex, find who is in charge of the fleer!" Commander Sinclair hissed through clenched teeth. Every movement, every whisper made the edges of his broken ribs grate at each other, sending stabs of fiery agony in his left side.

He forced himself to disregard the pain and focus on the job at hand. His friend and commanding officer, Captain Shran laid in a crumpled heap near his chair. The last slavo of dominion fire to hit their ship had caused their dampeners to fluctuate tossing the bridge crew around. The Andorian Skipper had the misfortune of landing even worse than John, breaking his neck. That left the Commander in charge of Millenium and her remainig crew.

"It's a mess, Commander! All designated ships are either destroyed or out of action. No one has taken command since we lost contact with the defiant."

Leutenant Alexis Felix was trying to keep her voice calm but he could hear her desperation.

"Bloody hell..." John cursed. Sinclair grunted in pain as he grabbed the side of the Captain's chair and made his way onto it. He stared at the forward screen showing him the mess in which the remains of the Federation fleet and their allies found themselves in. The Dominion lines were folding in, surrounding and cutting into pieces all the ships which tried to fight their way to DS 9. He didn't need to be a tactical genius to figure out what was about to happen. More than half the fleet would be gone in few minutes. The rest of them were lightly engaged with the enemy's forward elements while the bulk of their fleet was mopping up everyone who charged after the Defiant.

Of course, those forward Dominion elements were nothing to sneer at either. Especially with the fleet headless as it was.

John closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. Unless soemone did something, soon, the fleet was doomed. He shook his head. He was just a commander and a lot of captains were still alive, yet no one seemed to be doing anything constructive. Perhaps they are shocked, he thought. Just as he was. Untill moments ago he too believed that they would succeed despite the odds. The Federation had always managed to pull off something stunning at the most desperate situations.

Sinclair opened his eyes and starred at the screen. More ships were dying while he was wondering what to do. It was as if everyone in the fleet was waiting for a mirracle to happen and save the day. He grimaced. Was that it? If he was honest with himself, John knew that Operation Retunr was a longshot. An act of desperation that was crubling aroun him, killing whole fleets.


	4. Empire Rising Star Trek AU Part 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek TV series, Motion pictures, Novels or Games. They belong to their respective creators and Copyright owners. This story is created with no monetary gain in mind. I make no money from it. It is not to be sold or rented.**

 **AN: This is the second update of this story idea. I would like some feedback.**

 **Book I: How the Dreams Die**

 **Prologue: How to lose a war in a single afternoon**

 **Part 2**

 **Bridge  
USS Millennium, Akira class cruiser**

"Alex, find who is in charge of the fleet!" Commander Sinclair hissed through clenched teeth. Every movement, every whisper made the edges of his broken ribs grate at each other, sending stabs of fiery agony in his left side.

He forced himself to disregard the pain and focus on the job at hand. His friend and commanding officer, Captain Shran laid in a crumpled heap near his chair. The last salvos of dominion fire to hit their ship had caused their dampeners to fluctuate for an instant, tossing the bridge crew around. The Andorian Skipper had the misfortune of landing even worse than John, breaking his neck. That left Sinclair in charge of Millennium and her remaining crew.

"It's a mess, Commander! All flag ships are either destroyed or out of action. No one has taken command since we lost contact with the Defiant."

Lieutenant Alexis Felix was trying to keep her voice calm but he could hear her desperation.

"Bloody hell..." John cursed. Sinclair grunted in pain as he grabbed the side of the Captain's chair and made his way onto it. He stared at the forward screen showing him the mess in which the remains of the Federation fleet and their allies found themselves in. The Dominion lines were folding in. They were surrounding and concentrating their fire into the ships which tried to fight their way to DS9. He didn't need to be a tactical genius to figure out what was about to happen. More than half the fleet would be gone in few minutes. The rest of the Alliance fleet was in light contact with the enemy's forward elements, which were numerous enough to hold them down, while the bulk of the Dominion fleet was mopping up everyone who charged after the Defiant.

Of course, those forward Dominion elements were nothing to sneer at either. Especially with the fleet headless as it was. The enemy ships weren't content to just play defense and wait until the main fleet action was resolved behind them. On the contrary, they were forming the bulk of their numbers for an all out attack, while wings of fighters and lighter ships screened them.

John closed his eyes for a moment, trying to clear his mind. Unless someone did something, soon, the fleet was doomed. He shook his head. He was just a commander and a lot of captains were still alive, yet no one seemed to be doing anything constructive. Perhaps they are shocked, he thought. Just as he was. Until moments ago he too believed that they would succeed despite the odds. The Federation had always managed to pull off something stunning at the most desperate of times.

Sinclair opened his eyes and starred at the screen. More ships were dying while he was wondering what to do. It was as if everyone in the fleet was waiting for a miracle to happen and save the day. He grimaced. Was that it? If he was honest with himself, John knew that Operation Return was a long shot. An act of desperation that was crumbling around him, killing a whole fleet.

"Alex, open a channel to every Alliance ship still fighting. This is Commander John Sinclair, Acting Captain of the Millennium. I'm taking command of the fleet. All units, reform around the surviving Sovereign divisions then assume formation Beta Seven. Then wait wait for further orders." He glared at the tactical plot. "Alex patch me through to the most senior Klingon that's still alive."

"I'm on it."

"Engineering, what's our status?"

"Shields are down to twenty percent. A third of our phaser grid is gone and we have breaches on multiple decks." came the terse reply from Lieutenant Commander Cole Tirol, the chief engineer.

"Damn. Engines and warp?"

"Online. For now. That all? I'm a bit busy over here."

"Carry on."

"Spirit of Hope and Vigilant are acknowledging." Lieutenant Felix informed him. "What's left of our squadron as well."

"Thats' something."

"This is Worf! I've taken command of the Klingon forces in this theater," a familiar face appeared on the main view screen.

The former Starfleet officer looked much worse to wear. There was blood slowly leaking down his ridges from a nasty looking head wound, making him look like a monster straight from an ancient Earth myth.

"Worf, we need to get out as much of the fleet as we can." John started. He needed a way to convince the Klingons to die gloriously another day. "I..."

"I know." Worf interrupted him. "This is the last offensive force that the Empire has left." he announced with a haunted voice.

"We've got few minutes before their main forces are free to come after us." Sinclair took a deep breath. What he was going to do, what he needed to do, went against everything he had been taught as a Starfleet officer. Yet, it was the only way to salvage something from this disaster.

"Less. Their vanguard will hit us long before the rest of the Dominion fleet regroups." Worf grunted.

"I know." the Commander glanced at Alex, who gave him a thumbs up. John hoped that he didn't misinterpret her gesture and most of the Alliance fleet will follow his orders. No mater how... distasteful they were. Yeah, let's go with that word. Its sounds better than cowardice.

"Alex, give me a status of the fleet. I want to know how many ships can't maintain maximum warp. Same goes to your forces, Worf."

The Klingon's eyes widened then blazed with furry for a moment, before his discipline won the day, showing that he was head and shoulders above most of his people. "I see. You'll get the data ASAP."

"We've got thirty ships of all classes which have suffered engine damage." Alex was her usual, efficient self.

"Not enough. What's your status, Worf?"

"About a third of our remaining ships won't be able to get away."

"That might just be enough. Alex, give me a fleet wide channel, both to Starfleet and the Klingons."

"You are on, sir."

Sinclair paused for a moment. He sucked at making speeches, damn it.

"Men and women of the Alliance, I won't sugarcoat it. We gambled on our courage and determination to carry the day against impossible odds." He took a deep breath. "We failed. Now our duty is to preserve as many of our ships and crews as possible, so we can face the Dominion another day. At a time and place where we can stop them cold!" He paused , gathering his thoughts. "Right now, the Dominion commanders believe that they have won not only this battle, but the war itself. If we let our fleet perish here, they might very well be right. That's why I'm asking you for one more sacrifice. The Millennium will lead all our damaged ships in a counterattack, buying time for the fleet to disengage and regroup with friendly forces."

Sinclair looked at the tactical display. They were running out of time.

"All ships able to go to warp, disengage by divisions and go. The rest of the fleet will advance. Helm, pull us next to that listing Sovereign."

"The Hood? I'm on it, skipper."


	5. The Cylon Wars

**Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.**

 **The Cylon Wars**

 **=TCW=**

 **Prologue:**

 **Requiem for a dream**

* * *

 **Caprica City**

 **Caprica**

"It's all happened before..." The blond woman trailed off and smiled at the sleeping man she had been studying for the last hour or so.

Her eyes crinked in grimace. The years hadn't been kind to him. She could see it clearly – the man had shrunk, if she didn't know better, the blonde would have believed him to be almost a head shorter from the last time she saw him. His once raven black hair was mostly snow white with a bit of gray sprinkled in it. His face – it was almost a mockery made of leather like skin and deep worry lines.

She averted her eyes, glancing at the nearby window and looked at her reflection. A face that the humans would consider beautiful stared back, framed by shoulder length blond hair. She should be smiling, preparing to execute her part of the plan.

She should be cheerful, rejoicing even, because the colonials, the hated humanity had mere hours to live… and all she had to do was kill a single man. The model Six Cylon looked at her lap where her hands were clutching a silenced pistol. It would be so easy. She had to just raise her arm, point the gun and press the trigger.

Her eyes returned to the slumbering human. He was a ghost anyway. A pale shadow of the man she loved a lifetime ago.

Before she was chosen.

Before she became something more and transcedented mere blood and flesh.

 _Before we were captured!_ A small, treacherous voice screamed in the back of her head.

 _Before the experiments!_ Images flashed in front of her eyes. Old, war era Centurions were leaning over her, their red eyes flashing mercilessly.

The Six shook her head. She knew what she had to do. What was the right thing. She had to finish her mission, then it would be best to just shoot herself so after her resurrection the corrupt code could be purged from her.

It would be for the best. That should silence the voice. Or perhaps it would finally shut the frak up once she shot the man.

 _Frak that! They'll just cut us again! Or just box us!_ The Six shuddered. Here body convulsed with phantom pains, feeling cold steel slicing into her flesh.

It was all wrong! This wasn't her, just that poor human that was used as her template… Here plump lips parted in a silent "O". There wasn't supposed to be a template for the Bio-Cylons. They should represent the best of that flawed creation called humanity, not be just copies of individual people… She shouldn't remember… There was nothing to remember…

"Helena..." a gravel, yet familiar voice whispered. It made her heart beat faster, her chest constricting around it.

She looked up. The man was sitting in his bed, a look of utter shock on his face. The Six couldn't help it and smiled, then grimaced as her head was wracked by pain. She raised a shaking arm, the gun trembling in her hand. The old man snapped his mouth shut and stared stared at her. She could see his eyes shifting from longing to defiance and back again.

She lined up her shot, the muzzle pointing straight between his eyes. Her finger started gently squeezing the trigger, then stopped. The Six was no longer starring at the old wizened man. Instead she was seeing a roughly handsome man, wearing the sharp looking uniform of the Picon military, with a brand new captain's insignia.

The Cylon gritted her teeth. He was a damn ghost, who was better off dead! Just like the one, this Helena, that lurked in the back of her head. So she steeled herself and pressed the trigger. The gun kicked against her hand, it's silenced retort shattering the silence.

A look of astonishment, mixed with betrayer appeared on the man's face just as the back of his head exploded, painting the nearby wall with blood and brains.

The gun fell from the woman's suddenly weak hands, while she stared at her handiwork. It was God's will! She did her part, right?!

A single tear rolled over her left cheek and she let out a long, hopeless scream, containing all the heart-ripping pain that was suddenly drowning her entire world.

 **=TCW=**

* * *

Helena jumped up. Or at least tried to. She was enveloped into something soft, constricting her movements. Desperation fueled strength ripped the fabric tearing the satin sheets she had cocooned herself in. Her wide eyes darted in all directions, searching for the corpse of the man she loved. The one she murdered.

Instead of a body with the back of it's head missing, she saw only her bedroom, now covered with pieces of ripped sheets. Helena shuddered as chill ran up her spine, made worse by the flimsy, sweat-drenched nightgown that was sticking to her back.

It was a dream… Just a fraking nightmare!

"Heh..." The Six chuckled at herself. None of that was real…

" _Tomorrow it will be."_ Stated a voice identical to her own.

The Cylon looked around, searching for her sister. Sure enough, she was right there – sitting cross-legged in the armchair in the other end of the room.

" _Tomorrow night. Will you carry your orders again, Helena?"_

The Six sat on the edge of her bed and glared at her sister. Then frowned, when she couldn't detect her on the Cylon wireless network. As far as she was concerned, there wasn't anyone else in the room.

"Great. I'm really going insane."

" _That's one way to look at it."_ The apparation gave her a coy smile, before her face became serious. _"Tomorrow the Plan will be executed. What will we do, Six? Will we walk into his home and put a bullet between his eyes?"_ She cocked her head to the side. _"Put him out of his misery? All this time, he's been waiting to be reunited with us in Elysium. Just one bullet. It will be an act of mercy. So we can kill the rest of the humans just a bit easier…"_ She trailed off. _"Just as the God we don't believe in demands..."_

"It's the will of God!" She snapped back an automatic response. "You know what they did to us!"

" _Who? The Humans or the Cylons?"_ The coy smile was back.

"Shut the frak up! You aren't here! You can't be here!"

" _Indeed. I'm but a dream. A ghost in the machine."_ The mirage stood up and slowly walked towards Six. _"Can we do that to him? Destroy all he has left – his duty, burning the words he's sworn to protect in nuclear fire? It will be better to just end him, instead of letting him watch the Colonies die."_

"So what?! He didn't protect me!" Six screamed. She moved away from the slowly advancing ghost until her back hit the wall. The woman hugged her legs and rocked back and forth. "They cut me! Took everything I was! There was no one to help me!"

" _No, there wasn't. We were alone with the machines. They destroyed us."_ The apparation stepped closer. _"They remade us."_ Another step. _"They enslaved us. And so the cycle began anew."_

"What's happened before, will happen again..." Six muttered numbly, heedless of the tears streaking over her face.

" _We don't believe that. Not really. We wouldn't be falling apart right now if we did."_ The apparation glided closer and smiled. She stretched her arm and tapped Helena's forehead with the index and middle finger of her right hand. _"Bang. Time's up, 'Eli."_

 **=TCW=**

* * *

"FRAK!" Helena sat up and looked around. She was in the middle of her bed, hugging her pillow. Around her, she could see pieces of torn apart sheets.

And the fraken alarm clock was going off, compounding the throbbing pain in the back of her head. She glared at the offensive piece of plastic and electronics, noted the time and date, and threw her pillow at it.

It was five in the morning. Twenty seventh. About a day or so before the Plan went into effect. And she had an Admiral to assassinate, because the rest of the Cylons wanted to be sure that the bastards was dead after all the trouble he was during the last war. Preferably before the plan was executed. Or so she had been told.

Six went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Pale face and bloodshot eyes looked back. Something was different, beyond her appalling appearance. When she concentrate, Six could almost remember. There were fragments in the back of her mind, shards that hadn't been properly purged from her memories.

A ghost in the machine, indeed.

Her face twisted in fury and she slammed a fist straight into her image. The mirror shattered, slicing open her the back of her hand.

Helena started trembling, the sudden pain causing a brief flashback - a thin, gleaming blade was descending towards her eyes, held by a metal hand. Six shook her head, chasing the memory away. She glanced at the mirror fragments, each showing her face from a different angle, making the illusion that her sisters were watching her.

"Frak you all!" Helena shouted at her mirror images, feeling lost and betrayed.

She brought up her right hand, looking at the cut and bleeding skin. She felt warm fingers gently probing around the wound, before they started cleaning with an antiseptic patch.. She looked up, seeing the relieved face of her lover.

Six blinked in confusion and the memory evaporated like a morning mist, leaving her alone again.

What was she supposed to do now?! Kill him?! Let him die with the rest of the humans?!

She knew what a Six was meant to do. What the Bio-Cylon would do.

"What about me?" She asked the shattered mirror.

" _What would Helena do?"_ The ghost asked, startling her.

What indeed...


	6. Shattered Fate X-ComME crossover

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

* * *

 **Shattered Fate**

 **Prologue: Brand new world**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1. The end of the line**

* * *

 **23:21 PM CET ( Central European Time), 21 July 2025 AD**

 **Raptor flight en route to Berlin**

 **Germany**

 **Earth**

 **Sol System**

Being strapped into a seat in an Avenger Assault transport, with eleven other people, was not my idea for a fun ride. Considering how my last few months went, that minor irritation was barely a footnote, though it was almost enough to keep my mind distracted. Because, to be honest I was fucking terrified and was barely able to stop my body from shacking too much.

I'm not the bravest fella around, all right? One might think that I would have grown accustomed to this madness by now. To make thing clear – I was flying with a band of the best killers humanity has ever produced on my merry way to Berlin, where a bunch of aliens were throwing a party. For all I know the fucking Ethereal in command of the mess in the city had a bloody birthday and decided to invite all his buddies. You know how it is – Mutons and Heavy Floaters to provide the fireworks, Sectoids mind controlling the locals, and a bunch of Chryssalids invited on all you can eat buffet. Oh, there were a few Cyberdiscs flying around too, which were cheerfully blowing up civies.

Yeah, you got that right I am in the God forsaken X-COM universe, or at least one of its iterations. One evening I went to sleep and then I awoke strapped on an alien surgery. What followed were the worst couple of weeks in my life, something I'm not going into detail right now. According to the shrinks in the base I am suppressing most of those memories really well. A pretty bad thing as far as they are concerned.

Well fuck them. What happened those days is not something I want to dwell on or remember if I am given a choice. Besides as far as mental health goes I'm not screwed any worse than the rest of the X-COM operatives that have seen more than couple of missions. I've participated in ten deployments in the last two months, which was possible because the docs managed to put me more or less together after my ordeal in that damned alien base.

Now how you get an untrained civilian like myself, not to mention that I was a lot overweight and in pretty bad shape before the x-rays got their sticky fingers on me, well it is the same reason why I am participating in this particular mission as well. Psionics. Neither I or the scientist in the main base (despite all the test short of vivisection they did on me) know if I was born that way or it is something the aliens did to me, but right now I'm one of the few precious psionics that X-COM has. Considering how often either Sectoid Commanders of fucking Ethereals were encountered in the field, my deployment had been easily authorized. It was done because even if I royally screwed up in the field, it was unlikely that I would cause the death of more operatives that would die either way if they didn't have psionic support.

Did I mentioned that the Gift around here made what I saw in the games look like a child's play?

For example, take the first time I actually used my new powers. It was during the assault by everyone's favorite maniacs, on the base where I was experimented on. A stray shot by a panicked Sectoid totaled the device which was containing my powers. Yeah, I was strapped into a stasis pod, unable to do anything but feel what the bastards did to me. For fucking weeks!

Incidentally, that gave me a great view of the final chapter of the X-COM assault on the facility. The surviving members of the strike team showed me that the damn aliens can be killed. I saw both Muttons and heavy armored humans die under barrages of plasma and raw psionic powers. Then whatever was keeping my own Gift in check was shredded by that panicked little bastard.

Then my world went red with fury. They tell me that I went berserk and tore apart the base commander who was in the process of moping the floor with the surviving X-COM operatives.

The next time I actually used my Gift in anger was a month later when there was an alien retaliation targeted at the facility where I was still recovering. I had to help stop the alien bastards from killing or worse, taking me alive. So I assisted the base security, while exploring my gift. Let me tell you, it wasn't fun. At all.

At the time I really didn't think about the other people in the base. I fought solely to keep myself out the Ethereals hands. To blame me or not for being that selfish after what those things did to me is for you to decide. I don't care. But I digress. That is a story for another time (read never if I am able to repress those memories outside of the accursed nightmares).

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Operation "Shattered dreams". My eleventh official mission as an X-COM operative. You see, an hour ago the x-rays stated a Terror raid in Berlin. An Ethereal and at least four Sectoid commanders were spotted on various cameras before the feed was jammed. That is why I was ordered to join the strike team sent to clear their clocks. Three transports, thirty six operatives and six "ODIN" HWPs,(basically small floating tanks loaded with plasma cannon and heavy lasers) escorted by a wing of Firestorm fighters. We were going in to reinforce the elements of 1st Panzer-grenadier division which were protecting the city and hunt down the aliens. My job was to deal with the enemy psionics while the rest of the troops eliminated the never sufficiently damned Chryssalids. Preferably, before those menaces turned the whole city in monster infested graveyard.

So here I was, a minute away from the insertion point. My immediate boss, Colonel Karen "Ghost" Travis patted my shoulder and nodded her helmet encased head my way. Oddly enough, the gesture helped me to calm down. Considering the kind of hell we were about to walk in, the woman clad in "Titan" power armor had a reassuring effect on me. I nodded in answer and re-checked my gear for a hundredth time. Laser rifle and pistol, two alien grenades, four flash-bangs and a spare med-kit. According to the HUD of my helmet everything was all right with my experimental Psionic armor. (Don't get me started on the "joy" I was in about field testing the latest piece of equipment cooked up by our illustrious R&D department. Last week a light blaster launcher blew up when a demo specialist tried to shoot at a rampaging Sectopod. There was nothing left of the poor bastard when his spare ammo detonated too. I was "fortunate enough" to be trying on the bloody armor when the alarm sounded. Considering that it took more than an hour for the prototype to be fitted on me, there was not enough time to change in regular power armor when the presence of enemy psionic troops was confirmed.)

"Ten seconds. Brace yourselves." The all too cheerful voice of our pilot interrupted my musings.

"Do things by the numbers and keep your heads down. I want you all in one piece after we finish our sightseeing trip." The pilot's announcement was followed by the synthetically distorted voice of the Colonel.

"Yes, mother." Sergeant James "Angel" Valdes, our combat medic, quipped. This got few chuckles from the veterans.

The Avenger suddenly lurched when coming to a sudden halt over our designated LZ. Obviously the internal dampeners of the bird had some kinks left to straighten out. Ironically, during our hypersonic flight, the system worked like a charm – I did not feel any of the acceleration.

According to the briefing, we were to deploy in a small park in which local troops were dug in and still holding, link with their commander, get the latest Intel on the situation and proceed from there. Well the plan went pear shaped the moment the ramp opened. On of the our FNG, who were placed strategically next to the exit got a face full of plasma. All because a damn drone had evaded the avenger's sensors only to appear when we were about to deploy. A moment later the damn bot was speared by crimson lance by the "ODIN" closest to the ramp. The hover tank exited, its cameras and sensors scanning for more targets. It was followed by the rest of "Crimson" squad, which was the Colonel's own unit.

Let me tell you, she wasn't happy to be baby-sitting a couple of greenhorns while two of her veterans were stuck in the hospital after her last op.

One lest of the FNG's now…

His death should have shocked me. Perhaps kindled some other reaction than simple shrug.

It would have before my first mission, when we lost seven of the ten men and women we went in with. Instead neither of us paid much attention to the dead woman and we simply continued with our deployment.

The second six man group was me and my designated minders for this op. As you could imagine, the only reason I lived long enough to become somewhat competent was the Commander's decision to sent me out with a bodyguard detail which included some of the meanest bastards X-COM had to offer. Not that he really had much of a choice. At the time I was one of the very few human psionic who could use the Gift in combat. Even now, months later there were only six of us with enough grasp of this power so it could be our primary weapon in combat.

Four of us were still alive and out of the hospital right now. And lucky me – I was alone in the European theater.

When we disembarked, the pilots lost no time in getting the Avenger to safety, the lucky bastards. Even before the ramp closed and our rider could start pulling out, we were dispersing and taking what little cover we could find in the immediate vicinity. The closet trees were twenty meters away with only the HWPs and a pile of sand bags for protection. Thanks to a heavy jamming in the area, which indicated that at least couple of cyberdiscks or a Sectopod were around, we had lost contact with the detachment securing the LZ. Until few minutes ago we had live satellite feed of the area and it was still secure. Then the we lost our eyes in the sky when the sat was blown up by an UFO on its way out of the atmosphere. The next bird would be on station in another four minutes or so.

Needless to say, we were not amused to deploy in potentially hostile drop zone.

If we had any notions that we might be safe for the moment, that damn drone nothwinstanding, it was immediately rebuffed. Far to the left, behind a bunch of trees, we could hear gunfire, angry bellows from Mutons and the distinctive sounds of their favorite heavy plasma rifles, which was heard over the familiar retorts of firearms.

The rest of the park was quiet. Too quiet. Thanks to the night vision systems integrated into our helmets (reverse engineered from alien samples) we could see as well as at high noon. There were corpses strewn near the treeline. They did not bore the cauterized wounds caused by plasma weapons. Instead the corpses were riddled with bullet wounds and some were torn apart in the distinctive pattern of high powered psionics.

"Well shit." I muttered. At out current position we were sitting ducks. That was obvious to the Colonel, who looked at me. I shook my head. I could detect nothing passively. Going active with my psionics would lit me up like a beacon for the most enemies in the area, who could at least sense active uses of the Gift (after all it was the primary way the Ethereals communicated with their slaves). Travis lost no time in snapping orders.

"Pop smoke and advance to the treeline to the right. Crimson fall in. Hammer cover Dragon". (If you are wondering that's my call sign. Don't ask.) She chose that direction because the cover was much closer. There were about seventy meter to the trees behind which the German soldiers were fighting. Too much open ground to risk it when the situation smelled like a trap.

Moment later the grenades were on their way. They exploded releasing crimson smoke mixed with alloy particles which disrupted alien sensors in the affected area. Made it hard for Mark I and II eye too.

The Colonel and her squad dashed, moving behind the mobile cover provided by "Odin 1". The other HWP was standing on overwatch, covering our rear.

When they were halfway through a group of four combat drones appeared over the tree crowns. They were immediately engaged by the second "ODIN" which had clear line of fire. Me and my minders joined in a second later. By that time two of the machines were blasted by laser fire and the third was attempting to evade plasma cannon shots. The ordinance they sent our way splashed on the armor of the vehicle dealing superficial damage. They managed only a single shot apiece before our concentrated fire blew them out of the sky. Luckily their software prioritized the highest threat as a target, keeping us squishy humans safe.

However, that was just the beginning. The frighteningly familiar whining sound of Cyberdisks hover systems rend the night. Three of those appeared from thin air in front of "Crimson" who had almost reached the treeline. The bastards had fitted those machines with active camouflage!

"Sheize!" One of my minders cursed a moment before we opened fire.

What followed was a short and brutal firefight. The reasons why anyone of the Colonel team made it, considering they were at point blank range with the alien machines were twofold. Small degrading of the targeting sensors caused by the witches brew that was the contents of our smoke grenades and the disks targeting priorities. Naturally they decided that the "ODIN" was the primary threat and two of them concentrated fire on it. Lasers speared one of the alien machines and plasma raced in both directions. Within seconds our HWP was overwhelmed but the loyal machine managed to take one of its enemy counterparts to hell.

"Truck", a Nigerian, mountain of a man, who was Crimson's demo expert cut loose with his plasma cannon at the Cyberdisk to the right. The superheated gas caved the armor of the alien construct. The machine exploded in a spectacular way a moment later but not before returning fire with dual bolts of golder energy. The anti-vehicle ordinance had no trouble with the power armor of T'Kou Mobuto and blew him in two at the waist. Meanwhile, all of us were busy pumping the last machine chock full with plasma and laser fire. It spun in place, spreading the damage all over its frame and buying itself the extra second it needed to threw a grenade at the closest squad. Crimson had no time to react, not at that range. The glowing sphere flew their way and hit Angel in the torso, before detonating. Valdes took the brunt of the explosion and shielded the rest of the team. His mangled corpse was thrown back and struck the Colonel who was lining another shot with her sniper. For the moment the boss and the rest of her team were down for the count, dazzled by the explosion. At least the last Cyberdisk had taken enough damage to give an electronic whine and fall to the ground in a heap of smoking metal.

Naturally our situation became worse. It always does when the fucking aliens are out in force. The next wave hit us while the last explosion was still echoing. A flight of ten heavy floaters jumped over the treeline and charged us. One was promptly taken out with a head-shot by my team\s sniper, "Reaper", who was taken position behind the remaining HWP. The said "ODIN" was methodically taking apart the incoming enemies, but it took concentrated firepower to kill these armored foes. Or one straight hit from its heavy cannon. The rest of us joined in the fun, firing controlled bursts of lasers and plasma.

Half of our number were down by now but I still kept my psionics in reserve. The current enemy tactics was too similar for comfort to the way the other two of our psi troopers were taken down in previous bastards had thrown waves of their units at us while their Ethereal commanders were waiting for our operatives to reveal themselves and had struck while they were distracted. Granted it was expensive tactic, but when they had the bodies to spent it worked. Besides when you take into account that our combat capable psi troopers could be counted on the fingers of one hand this was a sound strategic action on their part. Especially considering what someone with my powers could do when there was no enemy psi operative to counter me.

That was kind of the problem, for all of my raw power I was relatively in-expierenced in psionc combat. The one time I was caught off guard a bloody Sectoid commander almost did me in. Right now, in Berlin, Intel had confirmed four of the critters and a fucking Ethereal on the ground. If that bastard was here and struck me while I was too busy throwing psi powers at the floaters we were all dead.

The silver lining of our situation was that those flying bastards were not accurate while on the move and evading return fire. Only couple of glancing hits connected with one of my bodyguards and his armor shrugged it off with only a small rend left by the plasma. I took aim at a floater nobody was shooting at and pressed the trigger. A crimson lance of coherent light carved its armor plate. I held down the trigger until my weapon whined in protest, while silently thanking the genetic enhancements that gave me a fighting chance. My improved sight and reaction times were proving to be a lifesaver.

The continues laser assault made short work of the armor and reached the juicy innards of the creature. Apparently I got lucky and scored a critical hit in its propulsion system. It blew up which detonated the grenades he was loaded with. The ensuring chain reaction took out another of the bastards, who had strayed too close to my target in his attempts to evade the fire of my teammates. Soon the floaters were down for the count and the Colonel and her remaining two troopers were stirring, slowly coming back to their senses. However we were in no position to cheer. With angry roars, two Berserkers, clad in their distinctive crimson armor, charged from the left. Behind them, a pair of Mutons laid down a barrage of suppressive fire. And the gunfire of the Germans was conspicious in its absence.

Reaper threw himself to the ground barely dodging plasma bolts. The "ODIN" whirled around and flew over the prone sniper. Its plasma cannon roared and struck the leading Berserker, staggering him. Meanwhile its laser weapons were shooting all over the alien's buddy, leaving deep rends in his armor. However that didn't stop the x-ray. It simply roared in fury and continued its charge. Before our flying tank could shoot again with its primary weapon a purple sphere flew between the Mutons and struck it just below the cannon. It expanded to a meter in diameter and then imploded tearing a big piece of the "ODIN" which it collapsed on itself. The gutted tank fell to the ground.

This little demonstration of power could be used as an example why I was considered a critical asset. That trick was barely scratching the surface of what a psionic could do. Compared to the real thing, the Gift, in the way portrayed in the games I knew was a child's play. Or Sectoid for that matter. What I and the Ethereals could do... It was plain scary. And when all is said and done I was little more than a beginner who had a lot of raw power and lacked the knowledge to unlock its true potential.

Unfortunately for the alien bastards the hide and seek was over. With a thought I removed the mental blocks chaining my powers. I barely noticed how Reaper blew off the brains of the second Berserker while the rest of the squad were taking potshots at the mutons. I grinned madly as I felt the rush of power that greeted me, made ever sweeter and more potent by psi-amps integrated into my armor. Purple energy cracked all over my body, forming a hazy aura around me. I concentrated on the area from which the psionic attack had came and unleashed my power. I could sense the location of the Ethereal, as if I was looking at him from a birds point of view. The tree behind which he was taking cover was ghostly, transparent to my eyes. I idly wondered if that is the way superman felt when using his x-ray vision.

Dismissing the errand thought as fast as it came, I focused my attention on the alien leader. I could feel his surprise and shock. He did not expect for a human to wait this long before acting, obviously assuming that our psi support was with one of the other X-COM units. He frantically tried to reach for more of his power but it was far too late.

I struck, wielding my psionics like an assassins dagger and plunged it deep into his mind. He screamed like a damned soul in the depths of hell as his consciousness shattered like a fragile crystal struck by sledgehammer. I felt as his mind blinked out and released him from my psionic grasp. He, while technically alive was finished. His body slowly toppled to the ground. His unseeing eyes stared at the sky while drool leaked from his open mouth. I smiled with satisfaction. Another of those bastards was dealt with once and for all.

Then my attention came back to the Mutons who were still alive and sniping my squad. It was trivial thing to take control of the dim mind of the one to the right. Without a sound, my puppet made of flesh and bones turned his weapon at his comrade and emptied the clip at his brother in arms. I channeled more power in the mind control and the alien fell to the ground when I fried his brain.

I roared as searing pain gripped my left shoulder. It was like a liquid metal flowed in my veins.

How true it was. I was spun in place by the kinetic force of a plasma bolt as my shoulder was burned by the liquified alloy of my armor. A second shot missed my head by centimeters. I was caught off guard by the most glaring weakness of my powers. I could not multitask while using my psionc abilities. If they hadn't my full concentration, my attacks dissipated. The scientist back at the base believed that it was matter of mind discipline and training. The lessons in meditation I was offered and took didn't help much and there obviously was no one who was able to train me. In contrast, the some of the Ethereals could concentrate on multiple targets while using their psionic abilities and usually kept their situation awareness. The only live capture we had of their kind was still in interrogation and had not cracked, which only made our resident mad doctor more determined. So I was left to stumble in the dark.

That was a problem that just came home to roost with vengeance.

I gritted my teeth and concentrated. A purple wall of energy formed between me and the direction from which the attacks came. The next shot splashed on it harmlessly and I looked at its source. The Colonel was on her knees and her sniper was pointed my way. I could see a line of psionic energy stretching from the treeline to her head.

Mind control.

The same was happening to her two subordinates who were still stunned and were struggling to bring their weapons to bear. The God damned Sectoid commanders. Was it coincidence or did the aliens use one of their ruling caste as a bait for me? I could sense the Ethereal's surprise while he died. So probably a case of Murphy screwing with us.

The result was the same anyway.

I felt the an alien clawing at my mind with his powers. The Colonel shot at me again and again. All I could do was to desperately hold up my barrier while the little fucker was assaulting my mind. As I said, I suck at multitasking when my Gift is concerned. And my bodyguards? They were panicking and firing wildly in all directions. The X-Rays had hit them with a terror wave and succeeded. No help there. And possibly a few shots with my name were about to came from them too.

"Damn..." I spat tiredly. The mental assault was taking its toll. I was out of good options.

The moment after the next shot from the Colonel hit my barrier I dropped it and with a wordless scream reached as deep into the intangible source of my psionic power as possible. And then I went even deeper, thanks to the armor I wore. The time slowed to a crawl as my brain started working faster than should be humanly possible. I could feel warm liquid leaking from my nose and ears but didn't care. I ignored the way my vision turned pink and then red. There was only my power. A whole ocean of it, more than I could channel in a thousand lifetimes of constant combat.

My attention went to the Sectoid commanders. They were blazing like a signal beacons in the night. I could feel my psionc power screaming in rage like a living thing. I reached for them and touched them with my Gift. My power blazed like a newborn sun. They glowed from within and went up in flames before managing to even scream. The night was lit up by fires so intense that the Sectoids were rendered to ash. I felt them go into the long night and tried to smile. My head ached dully and I was loosing the concentration needed to use my powers. The ocean of energy I had touched was slipping from my shaky grasp.

Captain Travis. My mind strayed to her. I could feel the futile desperation with which she had fought the mind control. The last command given to her by the fucking alien, which she and her body had no choice but to obey. I felt her index finger squeezing the trigger of her sniper, while my head was in the center of her scope. She screamed in her mind as the weapon buckled against her shoulder.

A bolt of plasma exited the barrel of her sniper and headed my way. I tried to move or raise another barrier. My body refused to bulge. The trickle of psionic power I could still use hurried to obey, but I knew it won't be nearly enough. Not against a sniper shot.

At the same time I was still touching the colonel's mind. Could hear her screaming. The shot was coming at me slowly as if it was taunting my futile attempt to deflect it.

"It's not your fault, Karin." I sent through our unexpected connection. I sensed her surprise at hearing my words. "And thank you. For everything..." I trailed off.

The world went green.


	7. Shattered Fate X-ComME crossover Part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Shattered Fate**

 **Prologue: Brand new world**

 **Part 2. Rebirth**

* * *

 **12:33 PM, 1 December 2175 AD**

 **X-COM Station "Rome"**

 **High Orbit over Venus**

 **Sol System**

I floated in nothingness. Endless void. It was a sweet oblivion and I was at peace. I could stay here forever and be content. No more experiments, pain and nightmares. No more war and loss in a world that was not even my own. There was no sense for time. An endless second? Centuries? Millennia?

"It's been a long time. Besides in here the concept of time is quite subjective." A motherly female voice awoke me from my slumber. I opened my eyes and turned in the direction of the sound. A woman with a soft eyes and beautiful, ageless face floated in the aether. She had striking waist long, black hair. Her tasteful cocktail dress in pastel green matched the color of her eyes.

"What?" That was my eloquent response. I was surprised that someone was here to interrupt my rest. My brain was still slumbering.

She laughed merrily. I couldn't help it. The sound immediately put me at ease. The woman waved her right arm and we were sitting on comfortable armchairs. I had a steaming cup of coffee in my arms. Its aroma was invigorating. I carefully took a sip from the cup and sighed in content. It was the best thing I've ever tasted.

"I've forgotten that some of you flesh and blood folks need something to kick start your system in the morning." Her words implied that she was something else. "Even if it's an illusion of the mind."

I looked at her with curiosity. The lethargy was quickly leaving my body and my brain was starting to work properly. I really looked at her, this time trying to use my psionics.

They didn't respond.

She winked at me with amused smile on her face. "Nope. We don't want you to scramble this mind of yours further. Getting shot in the head was bad enough."

"That I remember. I think..." I trailed off, a flash of green flashing before my eyes.

"Good! So the damage might not be as extensive as we feared!" She beamed at me.

I gave a small sound of agreement. The type a mouse would make when it finds itself in the middle of a convention of hungry tigers. Without my Gift I felt naked, defenseless.

"Hey! I am not that bad!" She huffed in annoyance.

I nodded vigorously.

"Really!" She pouted cutely.

A bucked filled with ice cold water appeared from thin air and splashed into my face. I spluttered and glared at the female with apparently magic powers. She beamed and again waved a hand at me. I was suddenly dry again with a new cup of coffee in my arms. What the hell did I get myself in now?

"That is much better." She beamed at me. "Now lets cut to the chase. I am here to evaluate you."

"Uh, huh." I was watching her warily wondering if I had finally lost it. That is if the whole thing with X-COM wasn't a figment of my imagination in the first place.

She tilted her head as if listening to something and then blushed. "Ops?" She muttered, sounding embraced. "I forgot how this may seem to you." She waved at the void surrounding us.

"Indeed?" It wasn't looking particularly good, at all. I hated feeling helpless.

"Introductions are in order, I guess. I should have started with that." She pouted cutely. "I'm KLD 0941-VC1, but you can call me Katie." The woman was smiling again. "I'm a class six X-COM smart AI!" She chirped.

"Of course you are..." I muttered.

All this being a virtual reality would explain much. Now, it didn't mean that I would just take her words for granted and accept that whatever this was, it was an X-COM run op. Even if it was, well that wouldn't be a guarantee that they had anything approaching my best interests as an agenda.

"What do you want?" I asked and took a sip from my drink. It was safe. Probably. At least it tasted divine.

"To find out if you had all your faculties still intact. All scans indicated some brain damage and possible memory loss. We wouldn't want you to go mental and trash everything in sight when we awake you."

"So I'm dreaming all this?" I waved around. "That's reassuring." I deadpanned.

"In a manner of speaking. You are are submerged in nanite sludge, while the little buggers are finishing your tune up. It's been some after you were shot before we gained the necessary technology to heal such injuries."

"Was it? I was pretty sure that I was shot in the face. How do you fix that?"

"You managed to mitigate the plasma bolt a bit with your psionics. It was further weakened when it hit your helmet. Besides you got lucky, Corporal. The shot hit straight at one of the psi-amps, built in the helmet, further dispersing its force. That was the only reason you lived long enough to be brought back to the EU Headquarters and put into stasis."

"Ah. So that's how you did it."

"Indeed. So you were aware that Doctor Shen was able to make the alien stasis tanks run?"

"I heard such rumors. How long?"

Katie didn't answer and just stared at me. She tilted her head again, before she nodded to herself.

"Today is December first, 2175."

"I see..." I trailed off. Hundred and fifty years. I should be shocked. In denial too.

Yet… there was nothing. Just calm acceptance. Of course, I wasn't taking her on her word, but still…

"I'll want some corroboration for that, you know." I said with a surprisingly calm voice.

"Ah. Denial?" She asked, while looking me in the eyes. "No. Not exactly. You'll have all the proof you want in few hours when the docs de-tank you, Corporal. I won't be asking you about anything classified in before that happens, either."

"That's convenient."

"I'm not going anywhere before you are evaluated, and that can't be reliably done unless you have a reason to be at least marginally cooperative with your answers." She shrugged.

"Your consideration is appreciated."

"Don't be coy. You obviously don't mean that."

"What gave me up?"

"Your sunny disposition?"

 **=SF=**

* * *

"It's time. You'll black out for a moment while the docs de-tank you." Katie said.

"There goes nothing..." I muttered.

The world went dark and I drifted once again. It was restful, peaceful. At least for a few moments. Then I felt inertia, as if I was in a moving vehicle. I opened my eyes and immediately slammed shut my eyelids when a blinding white light did its best to blind me. I heard a hiss and felt a the air around me move as some kind of mechanism moved.

"Veil? Corporal Veil? Are you all right?" The now familiar voice of Katie rang in my ears.

"I'm not deaf." I tried to say but it came out as a gurgle.

"He doesn't seem all right." A male voice stated.

"What do you expect? He's been on ice before the war ended." Added another.

"Don't just stare at him! Get him to the gurney and run another scan." There was a concerned note in Katie's voice.

I felt weak. Sleepy.

"Hey! No sleep right now! Stay with us!"

Uhh…

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **09:10 AM, 5 December 2175 AD**

 **SSV TKL-21**

 **En route to Earth**

 **Sol System**

"Corporal, we are on final approach to Earth. I believe that you would like to see it." The pilot chirped in, awaking me.

The shuttle wall in front of me sparkled for a moment as static electricity ran over it, before it became transparent. I stared at a beautiful blue sphere, which was becoming bigger by the minute. There were flashing dots above it, ships or distant stations I guess. I noticed them as barely an afterthought.

Because the planet we were approaching had captivated my attention. Seeing Earth from such distance made me giddy. The blue oceans, blue and brown continents on the visible side… The white and orange lights lighting up what little of the night side I could see from this angle… The tower rising from northern Africa straight into space… Wait, what?!

"That's a damn space elevator!" I exclaimed.

"Yep. One of three currently operational." The pilot confirmed what my eyes were seeing.

He banked, changing our approach vector a bit and I was soon able to see the almost transparent silhouette of another, raising from India.

"The fourth is currently under construction. You can barely see its frame from here. It's was already planned by the time Mass Effect was discovered and it began construction before we had really cheap lifting capabilities. Even now, the elevators are a great economic boon, though not as much as when we were dependent only on Elerium powered propulsion." The pilot was all too cheerful to educate me on the realities in this new age.

"Look over there!" He exclaimed. "We are about to pass near SSV Everest, Home Fleet's flagship."

I looked around, searching for said craft. It took me few seconds until I saw a cluster of blinking lights that was becoming bigger and bigger, faster than the others in orbit.

Soon enough we were passing close enough so I could get a nice view of the Everest. She was a flying mountain of guns and armor, looking like a somewhat flattened brick instead of the crafts I've seen during the war.

"Two and half kilometers long, with three spinal mounted Mass Accelerator cannons, Twelve Heavy Fusion Lances..." My driver was droning on and on about her capabilities, most of which frankly flew over my head. Though she sounded almost as awesome as she looked.

I grinned foolishly. This was actually the first time I allowed myself to believe that we actually gained something significant from the war. Despite the power armor and energy weapons I was familiar with from all those years ago, they felt insignificant against the alien onslaught.

Yet, here I was, approaching a strong and proud Earth.

I leaned back in my seat and relaxed. One day I might even believe that all the sacrifices we made was worth it. Seeing the Everest would do that to you.


	8. Shattered Fate X-ComME crossover Part 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **AN: I've decided to turn this idea in full fledged story. I'll be posting the whole prologue later this evening.**

* * *

 **Shattered Fate**

 **Prologue**

 **Part 3. Ghosts of a murdered past**

* * *

 **12:11 PM ST (standard time), 5** **st** **December, 2175 AD**

 **Memorial of the fallen**

 **European Federation**

 **Sol System**

It was a simple, black obelisk, the only man made structure that could be seen for kilometers. That is if you don't count the almost sterile concrete slab that had been poured over what used to be my home town. I stared at the hundred meters tall monument, which was covered with inscriptions.

Each one was a name.

Ninety thousand of them, civilian and military alike.

The names of my immediate family, my parents and cousins, my aunt's were among them… Consumed by the God damned bugs or turned to ash when the division sent to contain the outbreak died trying to do so and my home town was nuked to stop the spread of the Chrysalids.

My last link to the past – gone in the blaze of a thousand suns.

I stared at a clear, blue skies and screamed in impotent rage. My Gift responded to my fury, purple tendrils of eldritch power whipping around me without direction. All I could see was a purple haze, my wordless challenge to the Ethereals remaining unanswered.

Eventually my boiling rage started cooling down. My Gift went dormant and the psionic halo surrounding me died down.

"For what's worth it, I'm sorry." My minder for the day whispered quietly.

I glanced in his direction, startled by his voice. Lieutenant David Anderson looked back calmly, unperturbed by my outburst. Unharmed too. His mastery over his own Gift had protected him when I lost control over my psionics.

"I appreciate it, Sir. Sorry for that display." I waved around and turned my back to the memorial. "I need to get out of here."

"I know just the place."

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **18:15 PM ST, 5** **st** **December, 2175 AD**

 **London**

 **European Federation**

 **Sol System**

"This brings back memories." I said after washing a bite of chips with some dark and cold beer.

"You've been around here before?" Anderson asked.

"Well, not this place, obviously. I was part of four operations in the UK, which happened almost back to back. So for a couple of weeks I was transferred to a facility on the islands and operated as a part of one of the local units." I took a sip of my beer to clear my suddenly dry throat. "After the last mission was done, command decided that we needed some time to wind down and let us loose for a few days. Short story long, we ended on a leave in London, so I had the pleasure to sample what you Brits had to offer." I shrugged, the memories of that time causing some pangs of nostalgia. "Though to be honest, none of us tried to fish, not after our last ops on your soil. Though the chips and beer were great."

"That village that was overrun by the bugs." Anderson nodded in understanding. He probably learned about it either at during training or back at school, during history class. It's funny that what was supposed to be classified the last time I walked the Earth was now common knowledge.

"So do I pass muster or you haven't have enough time to make up you mind?" I changed the topic.

"You haven't went on the deep end. Yet." David shrugged, politely not mentioning my episode back at the memorial. "Eh. You'll do all right. As far as I can see, you aren't particularly crazier than the rest of us."

"Considering what I remember about the general sanity level among X-COM that's not reassuring."

"We've been mostly in peace since the war ended and we managed to clean up all stragglers from Sol." He shrugged. "It's natural that we are now a bit saner outfit. Not that the rest of the Alliance armed forces would agree." Anderson smirked.

"Some things never change." I snorted. "Though it's surprising. When they told me about this Citadel Council and the 'good' aliens I was expecting that there would have been war after first contact."

"We got lucky. The commander of their Scout Flotilla kept his head, ours too which was more surprising given our history." Anderson shook his head. "The fact that Commodore Howard had a Battle cruiser in his Task Force sure helped, keep the Turians hones. Then again, what's really surprising is that we didn't start shooting at each other once the politicians got involved."

"Amen to that."

"Granted, it's haven't been all good, though we have mostly decent relations with the Turians, which is important, considering that they are the Council's military arm."

"I still can't wrap my head around the galactic politics."

"It's complicated." He winced. "While we don't have the numbers to take on the Council, we do have a significant technological edge. The fact that we aren't bound to the relay network helps a lot. In a war, they will break their fleets in relay assaults, while most of our core words are reasonably secure. Hell, we have some colonies which they can't reach with their current FTL tech." He grinned. "No suitable planets on the way for them to discharge the static charge from their drives. In a war that would give us safe haven until they could capture, reverse engineer and build a lot of ships with our own FTL drives." His smile disappeared. "By that time both sides would be wrecked beyond any reason. On the bright side, that fact is know to the Council so they haven't really been pushing us around, though some facts of our life rubs them raw."

"Why do I have the feeling that this doesn't even scratch the surface?"

"Because it doesn't. You can get most of the details on the extranet."

"I'll check it when a few weeks open in my schedule."

"That's an optimistic assessment."

"How did you manage that?"

"Blame it on the X-Rays."

"Ah. So that still works?"

"Usually. Its either Asari political maneuvering or Salarian skullduggery. So any idea what are you going to do?"

I looked at Anderson for a long moment, then shrugged. "Reenlist if X-COM will have me. It's not like I have something left in civilian life. Besides I always wanted to see the stars. What do I need to do to get a shipboard assignment?"

"Well, while there is no guarantee, there are somethings that will improve your chances. That you are rather powerful psi operative does help too. Let me see..."

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **06:00 AM, 15 December 2175 AD**

" **Col. Joakim Koh" Training Camp**

 **New London**

 **Local Cluster**

I stood at attention, shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of brand new recruits. After agreeing to remain a part of X-COM, the powers that be had decided that it was high time to get the training I should have received before becoming a part of the Ethereal war. The silver lining was that thanks to my service during the war, I had a sergeants stripes waiting for me, as well as some back-pay. A lot of it actually. However none of that was going to help me now. First I needed to be trained to the current X-COM standards, and once I was qualified for a basic trooper in this day and age I would be looking up to NCO courses as well as advanced psi training.

That's why I was wearing a standard green jumpsuit, with no insignia and waited for the Drill Instructor to finish glaring at the recruits around me like they were the scum of the Earth. Then his eyes reached me and she smirked. Joy. I was going to bloody hate the training. I already knew it.

"Well, well… What do we have here?" She grinned at me.

Yep. Why the hell did I chose to volunteer for this shit again?


	9. A Black Knight Rising Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own either of the Code Geass, Gundam Seed or Star wars franchises. This story is not written with comercial purpose in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **A Black Knight Rising**

 **=ABKR=**

 **Prologue: The Lady of the Lake**

* * *

 **12 March 2009 A.T. B**

 **Near Lake Sibhayi**

 **South Africa**

"Please watch. You'll love this!" My "host" grinned at me and pointed at portable TV set that was perched on a folding table. It was an old, white and black model, powered by a car battery of all things.

I glared at the bastard, which amused him to no end.

This whole situation was a disgrace, one that I had to blame on politics back home in Pendragon. That was the most likely reason why my plane was shot down over the supposedly neutral country of South Africa, before I ended up in this mess.

Being stuck into a wooden cage on the shore of a lake wasn't my idea of fun. The fact that the supposed rebels that were holding me, for ransom that was highly unlikely to be ever paid, were well cultured and fit looking, was my first clue in how dip shit I was. Their Euro Sphere accents and the fact that most of them were white, without the tan the locals were likely to have was the second.

My captors were either mercenaries, in which case I was likely FUBARed, or European special forces. If the latter was true I had a reasonable chance to be exchanged, for some consesions. In the former I should be doing my best to get the fuck out of here. Which was rather hard at the moment. My hands were expertly tied for different bars of my cage, which was in turn rather sturdy. I should know, I spent the last couple of days trying to set myself free, something my hosts found hilarious. The fact that the local, gunship sized mosquitoes were doing their best to eat me alive wasn't helping either.

The news recap, straight from Pendragon the bastards were eager to show me, made me furious.

First was a rehash of days old news, which I obviously missed. Empresses Marianne was dead. Murdered. Fuck, fuck, fuck! That suddenly explained the timing of my own misfortunes. I'd bet the family's title that my "accident" happened at the same time.

Marianne was one of the greatest allies my mother's branch of the family had. At least my big sister should be reasonably safe while she was in the middle of her own division, pacifying an uprising in Area Six. My mother and little sister Euphie however... They were amidst that viper nest that was Pendragon, which was just demonstrated to be much less than safe for the members of the Royal Family.

Then my thoughts went to Lully and Nunnaly. They were friends of the family, not to mention my own half-siblings. Nunnaly was Euphie's bestest friend, or at least my little sister said so the last time I saw her in the flesh. Truth to be said, the little firecracker was growing on me as of late. As far as I was concerned, the lad was all right too. For a kid that constantly buggered me and Cornelia about telling him war stories. Which was awkward, because we didn't have much to tell that would be appropriate for children's company.

"You would love to see the next part." My host smiled brightly at me.

The tune of the Anthem sounded for a few seconds, while the small screen was showing the Royal Crest. Moments later it was replaced by a picture from the Emperor's audience chamber, which was apparently packed.

My father was sitting on his throne, clad in his usual uniform like suit. He was looking bored while he was examining the assembled nobles. Nothing new there.

Then it happened. Lelouch marched in, wearing a white uniform and a ridiculously looking cape. He had a furious expression on his face.

"Damn it, kid!" I hissed. I could do nothing but watch helplessly the train wreck in progress, while wondering why the hell the inevitable accident had made it to the media.

He went to the edge of the allowed zone before the throne and started speaking, without the customary bowing or kneeling. Bad protocol that, not something Charles could get him get away with when the whole world was watching. If father cared for once that is. I had the sneaking feeling that I was watching a set up and my siblings were going to get railroaded.

I fucking hate our politics.

"Your Majesty, my mother has passed away."

Damn it kid, you should have put emphasis on the fact that she was the god damned Empress! That's how you do it!

"What about it?" Charles glanced at Lully, with severe yet bored expression on his face.

That had predictable results. I groaned while my brother was shaking with rage.

"What about it?!" Lully spat and leaned forward.

"Did you request an audience with the Emperor of Britannia just to say that?" Charles shook his head in disappointment.

Whatever Lelouch was trying to achieve, he was blowing it, because he was letting his rage rule him. This was only going to get worse and I could do nothing. It was obvious that the kid had no allies in the Audience Chamber either.

"Bring the next one, I don't have time to entertain children." Father glanced at one of his aides, obviously dismissing my brother.

I was silently praying that the kid would make the smart decision - shut the hell up and get away.

The kid lost it.

"Father!" Lully shouted and darted forward. The honor guards standing between him and the Emperor moved like a lighting, their ceremonial, yet perfectly effective pikes swinging his way.

All Father had to do was to raise his hand and they stopped in their tracks, shouting "Yes, your Majesty!", before saluting the Emperor and getting back to their posts.

The boredom was gone from Charles' face. Now he had a thunderous expression on his face.

And I wanted to bash my head in something. Preferably headbutting one of my jailors.

"Why didn't you protect mother?!" Lelouch shouted.

Well it was a relevant question. A line of though that might have gotten him whatever he wanted, provided that he hadn't botched his audience already. However right now...

"Aren't you the Emperor? Aren't you the greatest man in this country?" My brother continued to rant. "You should have been able to protect her! At very least you should have visited Nunnaly!"

Fuck. That's was another mistake. Knowing our father's policies, that last sentence was enough to fuck up Lully'schances by itself. If my foolish sibling had went and outright requesting finding whoever was responsible and making an example of them, that might have worked beautifully. Even if the Empress has showed "her weakness" by getting herself killed. Which in itself was bullshit but it was how the damn court worked. Raw naked power made one right. Requesting vengeance on someone's behalf could work too. However ranting on the Emperor about being unable to protect someone who should be able to look after themselves... Such a thing flies against the whole Darwinism my father is so fond of.

So Lully fucked up, big time. It was time to see with how much shit Cornelia and me would have to deal with in order to keep those two safe. Provided I got out of here alive that is. If not, then I would have to count on 'Nel to look after our siblings. At least she knew what the hell she was doing.

I was pointedly trying not to thing what this whole mess did to Nunnaly.

"I have no use for the weak." Charles stated. There was a small hint of sadness that those who really knew the bastard might have seen.

The fuck was happening back home?!

"The weak?" Lully parroted.

"This is the true nature of the Royal Family."

Something that I was painfully aware of. It was one of the reasons I joined the military. Being perceived as weak was unhealthy in our circles. Besides I wanted to be just like my big sister, who was my idol as I was growing up. Plus she was one of the very few decent siblings I had. Which is saying something considering that we are about a hundred or so. I lost count sometime ago.

"Then I don't want the right to succeed the throne!" Lelouch declared.

That sentence froze the blood in my veins and I went rigid against the ropes binding me. Unless Charles decided to be uncharacteristically merciful, the little idiot just doomed both himself and Nunnaly! There were people that would love to make their lives hell just to get back on Marianne, who was now safely dead.

"God damn it Lully!" I hissed through clenched teeth.

My shock was mirrored on the faces of the nobles in the Chamber, which were conveniently shown by the camera crew. There were loud gasps and cries of disbelief. One simply didn't throw his right to inherit in the face of the Emperor himself, no matter one's personal feeling on the subject.

The way our father's expression shifted at those words mad his rising fury obvious.

"I won't succeed you or get in any more conflicts!" Lelouch screamed.

I simply watched the clusterfuck with a gaping mouth. The kid was determined to dig his hole deeper and deeper.

"You are dead." Our father declared. There was grim resignation in his voice. "You were dead since the day you were born."

Translation: You fucked up so much, I can't recognize that you were ever my son. Bloody hell...

"Who gave you the clothes you wear right now? Your home? The food you eat? Your very life?"

Further translation: You own nothing. You are nothing. There is no one protecting you now. Most importantly, you've earned nothing!

That's how the nobility of the Empire would be seeing him and his sister right now.

"So you weren't even alive in the first place! Yet, you show such insolence by coming here and making demands! Lelouch!" The name was spat as a curse.

My brother stepped back, stumbled and fell on his ass, gasping as the extent of his fuck up was becoming to dawn on him. Or perhaps it was mere shock.

"A dead person as you have no rights." Father said outright what he was insinuating so far.

Remaining withing the Empire outside of the protection of my family would be a death sentence. As far as I knew, Cornelia was either with her division or searching for me. That left mother, who had lost her greatest ally and best friend. She had Euphie to think about too... Which meant that those two were on their own, for now.

"You'll go to Japan with Nunnaly. As a Prince and Princess, you will be a good bargaining chip. Or at least she will. Crippled or not, she is at least my daughter."

That was a polite way of saying that Lully could forget about any ambitions he might have ever had within the Empire, while Nunnaly wasn't necessary tainted by his foolish stunt. That's what a part my mind was telling me, while another was raging because the girl I was becoming to view as another little sister has been caught in Pendragon's political games and crippled.

I wanted to kill someone. My captors would do if I ever got out.

The news clip ended, replaced by the Royal Crest. My host shut down the TV and looked me in the eyes.

"Are you proud to be a Britanian Prince?" He smirked before leaving me alone.

I needed to get out of here. Now.

 **=ABKR=**

* * *

It was later the same evening. I was still bound in my cage, with the added benefit of cool rain splashing everywhere and making me even more miserable if that was possible at all. The bloody giant mosquitioes were unfazed, still doing their damned best to eat me.

I cared for none of that. My mind was preoccupied with my family. Marianne was dead. That combined with my predicament meant that I couldn't count on either my mother or sisters being safe. Or still alive for that matter.

It was infuriating. I was ready to do anything to be abler to check on them and make sure they were safe.

"Anything?" A melodious voice asked.

I blinked. The rain... it had stopped, frozen in the air. The few of my captors that I could see were still like a statues, stopped in mid-motion.

So I had lost it. Probably heatstroke or some nasty disease brought to me courtesy of the fucking mosquitoes.

"You are surprisingly sane, my former knight."

I looked around and saw her. An ethereal figure was walking upon the surface of the lake, coming closer and closer. Her face was cast in shadow. Her feminine features were all but invisible because of her hair, which was a blazing starcsape that was almost painful to look at.

"I can give you enough power to keep them safe, if you play your cards right. I would ask for two boons in exchange."

I narrowed my eyes at her. This delusion sounded too good to be true.

"What's the catch?"

"I can promise you that I won't ask of you anything that will be detrimental to the brothers and sisters you are caring about. Neither to you mother, who is alive by the way."

"Good to know. If I say no?"

"I leave and you follow your fate, whatever it may be."

I could swear she was smirking.

"Okay. As far as delusions go, you are on the nicer side of things. It's not like I have much to lose..." I trailed off and nodded towards the ropes binding me. "Care to just release me and be on your way?"

"I just might. Then you get shot." This time she was the one nodding, her head leaning towards my guards. There were three of them in sight, all armed with assault rifles.

"That's not an outcome I would like."

"Well, of course not! As I said, you are on the saner side!"

"What do you want?"

"For you to remember. And be my knight again when you are finished your path on this world."

"That's not helpful." Delusion all right. One that was becoming stranger by the minute. For a moment I wondered if my captors had fed me some funny meds. That would explain it all right.

"All right. I accept." I was actually eager for something to get my mind off worrying for my family.

"I'm glad you made this choice, my wayland Knight." I could feel her beaming at me.

A soft hand touched my head and I screamed.

My mind was burning as I was remembering lives I didn't live, places and worlds that should have been impossible outside of science fiction.

Perhaps it all ended in moments. Or was it years? Thanks to her powers there wasn't any real distinction. Time didn't have much meaning for her.

"You." I glared at my patron. I had hoped to never lay my eyes upon her form again.

"Me!" She waved cheerfully.

"This is a set up, isn't it?" I groaned.

"Not mine! I swear! I had nothing to do with you being reborn on this world or how you ended up here." She waved at the camp.

"Not buying it."

"Hey I'm serious! Besides it's not like I'm about to draft you to another suicide mission again! I just want one of my best shadows back in the business. Eventually. I actually owe you one so that's why I'm here! I can't really help you unless you are one of mine! That's not how this world works. You remember who and where you are, right?"

"Code Geass." My expression became thunderous.

My mind was finally settling. The memories of multiple past lives settled at the back of it, changing me surprisingly little. Perhaps the scars of all that had happened to me were still present upon my being even if my memories were gone as I lived my new life. A life that should have been a normal one, leaving me to live, pass on and finally find peace.

That had been the deal. I should have known better.

"No." My patron became serious. "I had nothing to do with this!" She waved her hand around and I knew she meant the whole world, not only my cage and the place I was imprisoned. "There was nothing 'bright' in this life of yours with a few notable exceptions."

I knew she meant my mother and sisters. Perhaps Nunnaly and her idiot of a brother, too.

"What would have been my fate, if we didn't seal the deal? I know you are aware of it."

The shimmering being wilted on herself. "You would be dead within hours. There is an Imperial Black Ops team en route to your location. V. V. Changed their orders to search and destroy."

"That should be my Uncle, I think?"

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"I remember only bits and pieces. Something about the end of the world, or changing it at gun point?" I shrugged. "And what's this about Zero? Lully becoming a terrorist? I know he fucked up but that's..." I trailed off.

A certain image flashed before my eyes. It was Euphie. She was in her late teens, wearing a pink dress. Of course it was pink, that was her favorite color.

A ghost of a smile appeared on my lips. Then it froze.

It was my little sister, again in the same gown. She was clutching her chest, blood spreading under her fingers. There was surprise etched on her face. Her eyes were blazing with the Geass symbol.

That wasn't going to happen! I would keep her safe no matter what!

"It's not much, but you know enough. That's what would have happened. And I promised you the power to change it, didn't I?"

A soft, warm finger brushed a tear from my cheek. I barely registered it. Seeing my sister shot, even if it was only a vision of a possible future... That shook me to the core.

Right then and there I couldn't recall how this stuff with transferring my memories worked, but my previous lives were distant things. Oh the knowledge was there, I knew most thing instinctively. But those people were no more. They died when I had made the choice to live on last, normal life and try finding peace in whatever waited beyond.

"I was wondering..." My patron smiled. "You are different, yet the same, my knight. Go and live. Try not to worry your sisters too much." She brushed my hair like a mother does her child and stood up.

I could feel it. Like a cool wind passing through me. An echo, of every being in the universe, her very heartbeat. It was the soft warm of the sun, without it's harsh glare. It was the eye of a storm, which was made by the passions of every living thing, turned into living energy, into a chorus.

And for the first time since I was reborn as Delkatar Li Britannia, she sang within me. I could feel her. She was like calm stream, that was steadily growing stronger. She was feeding on my emotions, my fury and fear for my family.

The rain resumed falling as if nothing had happened. I smiled at my captors. The Dark Side was bubbling within me, begging to be unleashed. I knew that my eyes were turning yellow and didn't care.

The only thing that mattered were the ropes and men keeping me away from my sisters.

That wasn't something that was allowed to stand.

I recalled the false image of little Euphie being shot. My heart was gripped by a rage so potent I could taste it. I called and she obeyed, the Force flooding my whole being. A terrible smile appeared on my face, making my closest guard to blanch at the sight.

The Dark Side begged me to unleash her and give those bastards their just reward. I smiled and dived deep into her sweet embrace.

The ropes binding me snapped, then a wave of pure power shattered the wooden cage that was my prison for the last few days.

I stood up, the Force revitalizing my strained muscles.

The closest of my captors shook out of his shock and pointed his weapon at me. Surprisingly he didn't immediately open fire.

"Halt! On your knees!" The terrified man shouted.

"Your fear is delicious." My disturbing grin grew in size. The Force sang within me, a chorus of countless voices. It was time to unleash her upon this world.


	10. A Black Knight Rising Chapter 1 Part 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own either of the Code Geass, Gundam Seed or Star wars franchises. This story is not written with comercial purpose in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **A Black Knight Rising**

 **=ABKR=**

 **Chapter 1: A Family Reunion**

 **Part 1: Finding a way back home**

* * *

 **12 March 2009 A.T. B**

 **Near Lake Sibhayi**

 **South Africa**

It's been a long, long time since I had the Force at my disposal. Her very presence, the fact that I could feel her again coursing through me… It made me drunk with power. The world itself was different. Sharper, more colorful. More alive than I've ever known it to be.

I got the Force back and I was arrogant.

It almost got me killed.

The four nearest of my captors weren't the problem. Only one of them had his wits with him and he didn't immediately open fire. That told me a lot. A common merk would have already shot me and asked questions later. This man's reactions spoke of training and discipline that wasn't common in the soldiers of fortune.

A mental command and his AR flew in my outstretched hand. Then I sent him flying back with a telekinetic wave which picked up the two armed men who were next to him, still gaping at me with shock. That got the forth, who was to my left, near the lake, out of his shock and he was raising his weapon my way. I pulled him towards me, and used the AR in my right hand as a club, bashing his head in.

Then I got dumb. Instead of fading in the rain and darkness so I can start picking up the rest of my captors, I started stripping the tactical vest of the last man I dealt with. Right there in the open, with no care in the world.

A level of arrogance I didn't have just a few moments ago, before getting those memories and the Force back. It was almost hilarious, considering that I am a Britannian prince of all things. A part of that was explainable. There are only couple of places that I remember having the force, where I wasn't usually clad in armor, with shields too. One of them was mostly medieval, so bolts and arrows weren't particularly threatening. A lot of men with steel in their hands and murder in their eyes were another issue.

However, right here and now I was only waring a dirty shirt and uniform pants. At least the bastards had left me my boots.

Needless to say, that didn't provide protection against bullets. My mind wasn't all right either, spinning as it tried to process all the information dumped in my head. All those memories surfacing at the smallest prompt… Despite the Force and the mental discipline that went with the training to use it, that was distracting.

I did feel her screaming a warning. It was enough to act on half-forgotten training and start rolling. So instead of getting a burst in the back, only a single bullet struck me, tearing into my left shoulder. Hot lead tore through flesh and bone, lighting my nerves on fire. Striking the ground hard and rolling away sent spikes of agony through me as the wound either hit the moist soil again and again. Fragments of my mangled bone bit deeper in my flesh aggravating the wound.

Using the Force to seek the source of the attack I could perceive a trio of signatures advancing on my position, which was on the white sand at the lake's shore. There was another group coming from the right too, though those were more distant and were advancing carefully.

The first thing I did was to use the Force to numb the pain so it wasn't distracting me. The second was to charge at the three men, one of whom had the temerity to shoot me, the bastard. The Force was enhancing my speed, making me appear like a blur. When I was near enough I screamed at them, putting all my pain and rage into it. The Force responded, enhancing my shout. I could see the very air before me rippling outwards as my scream went outward and struck the men. One of them managed to let out a burst in my direction, but the bullets were sent away by the shock-wave of my scream. The falling raindrops flew away as if picked up by hurricane. The sound wave shattered small trees and tore asunder brushes until it struck the men. They were picked up and bodily thrown back only to land hard and tumble over the moist ground.

I could feel their life force vanishing, laving cooling piles of meat and bone behind.

Then the other group opened fire. Bullets started buzzing near me. That prompted me to drop down. When I hit the ground my shoulder flared up in pain, making me grit my teeth. It was time to stop fucking around before I got shot again. That's why I called the Force, making it warp around me. Shadows gathered around my form, making me melt out of sight. The next thing was to use my power to create a sound-dampening field around me.

That's what I should have done in the fist place. Good luck shooting what you can't see and hear.

Once that was done, I got out of my position, dashing to my left while keeping low. There was no reason to present a bigger target even if I was for all intents and purposes invisible. In the same time, I was using the Force to scan the immediate area, something that was straining my concentration. For a moment I frowned at that. Doing all that used to be easy. Perhaps it was the wound or the fact I haven't done it in a long time.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. That was a question for another time. I could sense seven people who were still alive. Only five of them appeared to be conscious and one of those was in the lake after I threw him there. That left the group that was sweeping the camp searching for me as immediate threats.

I sneaked on their right flank and studied them for a moment. A pair had tactical vests over their shirts, they were probably part of this night's guard detail. The rest looked disheveled. They were probably sleeping when I started my little breakout.

I concentrated, letting the sound-dampening go away and leaving only the shadows as my defense. Then I reached through the Force and grabbed the man furthest away. My power picked him up and left him chocking half a meter in the air. His closest buddy swept his weapon that way. That in the middle continued covering their front while the last one swept to his right and then back. They also dropped low to make themselves lesser targets.

Good training all right.

It would have given them decent odds against a conventional opponent.

I smiled viciously and let my mind fly free, then I slammed all my Force enhanced willpower in the middle man. He left a strangled cry as his feeble natural defenses shattered, leaving him little more than a drooling idiot, who immediately became a pupped for my will. It was trivial to turn him around and shoot the man closest to me in the back.

Meanwhile the one I chocked with my power was already dead and dropped to the ground, leaving only one present threat.

I had special plans for that one. First I pulled his weapon out of his hands, making him cry in surprise and start fumbling for his sidearm, which followed suit. Then I pulled him towards me, leaving him suspended in the air in front of me, before I dispersed the shadows cloaking my presence.

His eyes threatened to pop out of his sockets when he recognized me.

I stumbled forward nearly falling to my knees. I could feel my body screaming in protest and swore. I've been so warped up in the glee of getting the Force back that I forgot about the possible consequences. My body obviously wasn't up for the usually fun and games even if I apparently had unrestricted access to the Force.

Gritting my teeth, I stumbled forward until I was next to my terrified captive and placed my right hand on his chest. I felt for his life force and then I tugged at it with the Force. The darker part of my mind watched with glee at the man's terror as he felt his very life being drained away.

At the same time I felt stronger. At least physically. The strain that I placed my body through by using so much of the Force in such a short amount of time wasn't going away. On the other hand my wound was getting better at impossible rate. Which meant that I had to grind my teeth as I sensed pieces of my bone move through my flesh before they were back in place and started knitting. After a few seconds I lost it and screamed in pain. My joint popped, bone fragments shifted, flesh became healthier. And if fucking hurt like a sonava'bich, damn it!

I don't know how long it took, but if my new/old memories were anything to go by, it should have been moments.

It felt like fucking hours of agony.

Suddenly I found myself on my knees, next to a desicated mummy. The cool rain was gently falling upon me and the night was unexpectedly quiet. Apparently a Sith screaming in rage and pain was enough to cower the local wildlife for the moment.

While I still could feel the Force all around me, I was no longer actively using her. That explained why the strain was gone, even if I felt like crap.

I glanced at my shoulder. It wasn't totally healed. I could see an ugly wound flesh but that was it. I gave it a gentle try and despite the pain, my left arm was working alright. I made a mental note to be careful with it in the foreseeable future. I knew that the newly knitted bones weren't as strong as before. It would took at least a few days for that, if I used the Force to make the healing process faster. It was too bad that there was no bacta on Earth.

I called on a bit of my power, cold fire spreading through my veins and I gasped in pain. Fuck. I've overdid it all right. I kept swimming through the Force for a few seconds until I confirmed that there were only four other living people in the vicinity, counting the man whose mind I shattered earlier. I noted their locations and let go, feeling a sudden relief as my body was no longer under the strain of the power running through me.

I found the two unconscious men who were among the first that tried to stop me and bound them so they won't be making any trouble once they awoke. Then I searched for a med pack while paying attention to the lake and the last man that might prove a problem. I could barely make his form amidst the rain streaked waters. He was slowly swimming towards the shore. My telekinetic shove might have wounded him. Or he wasn't a good swimmer. If my suspicion about those men origins were true, the former was much more likely. After all, usually you got your special forces folks learn how to swim during training, a long time before you let them deploy anywhere.

While I wanted the last of my captors to swim to shore I did my best to bandage my shoulder, without using the Force. I almost burned myself out already and if my guess was right I would need to use the Force in combat later tonight.

Against my own country's strike team too.

Ah, Britannian politics. It makes a Sith feel right at home.

I frowned at that thought. Who the hell was I really? Prince Delkatar Li Britannia? Delkatar Veil, the Dark Lord of the Sith? One of the many people with whom I've been merged while serving that strange, omnipotent being?

I got the memories of them all and I was finding it true that people were made up by their experiences. Even if those previous lives were distant things, something that I was grateful for or they would have already overwhelmed my sense of self… I could feel the memories changing me. Hell, I wouldn't have acted this way when I got the Force back if it wasn't for the short lived sense of invulnerability.

That by itself was a wake up call. Delkatar Veil would have been able to deal with my captors without breaking up a sweat. Those people were unfamiliar with what the Force could do… and his control over it was much greater. Now that I could look back at this engagement I could see clearly that I struggled in doing more than a couple of things with the Force at the same time. Not to mention that this short engagement almost burned me out.

Fuck. I got the Force, all right. However it appeared to be a great force multiplier instead of outright game changer. Which made sense. I wasn't in the body of the Sith Lord that Veil was. Hell, I wasn't that man any longer. Not really.

That wasn't necessary a bad thing. He might not have cared for my sisters, using them as pawns at beast. I should know. At the end of his last war he had been on the edge. Not really all there.

In the end he was a different man, with his own priorities, even if we shared the same memories and some traits.

A smile found its way to my face. At least I was myself, mostly.

I finished binding my wound just in time to see the last of my still free captors make it to shore. I grabbed an AR I retrieved earlier and made my way towards him. He pulled a pistol from a shoulder holster when he noticed my approach. So I shot him in the hand, the burst blowing most of his fingers and palm away. He screamed, clutching his crippled appendage. That was a distraction enough for me to make my way next to the wounded man and knock him out. I bandaged his hand so he wouldn't bleed away and bound him too, before dragging him to his two surviving buddies. I had put the mindless man out of his misery before bandaging my shoulder.

It was interrogation time, while I waited for the promised Britannian strike team to arrive.

A knife, a few sharpened sticks, ampules with ammonia, all was ready. It was time to let my inner Sith play.

 **=ABKR=**

* * *

 **13 March 2009 A.T. B**

 **Near Lake Sibhayi**

 **South Africa**

I was grateful that the rain didn't stop. It made washing the blood that splattered me during the interrogation much easier to wash out. I would have preferred to use the Force and simply take the necessary info from the minds of my captives, however that wasn't practical in this instance. I would need my powers when the Strike Team arrived to clean up this mess so I could handle them.

I wasn't so arrogant to assume that I could deal with unknown number of Imperial special forces operatives without the Force. On my own too. No when I almost got myself killed when facing a similar unit from the Euro Sphere earlier this night.

Because that's exactly what my captors were. I've been halfway through my second captive when the third one had enough and started singing like canary. What he said made sense and was in line with what I suspected. Their Intel division had received information about my flight. Someone high upon the food chain had decided that I might be an useful bargaining chip, so my plane was shot down, with me luckily surviving with only bruises and nasty bump upon my head. The rest of the survivors were killed by my captors and I ended waking up in that cell.

The fact that I expected an Imperial unit to come here and kill everyone still alive pointed out that the whole mess was caused by the infamous Britannian political games. It wasn't hard to believe that my plane's flight path and the fact that I would be on board could be deliberately leaked. The commando team coming in would make sure that I would be dead, though probably the Britannian soldiers were unaware that there was a Prince on the ground.

That was the question. Did they know and were ordered to kill me anyway? If they didn't, this presented and opportunity.

Whistling a tune that no one upon this Earth knew, I finished cleaning up and went to get myself armed with the best that the Euros had at their disposal. After that was done I went to their makeshift kitchen and tried their MRE's, which weren't half bad. They actually had pizza of all things, which was edible too!

When I polished up the first decent meal I had in days, I tentatively accessed the Force. It was unpleasant but no longer outright painful. Wasting no time, I scanned my surroundings. Not finding any people in my range I made my way to the nearby tree cover and searched for a nice perch. I found it in an old tree with thick branches, one of which made a nice position to wait for my possible ride out. So I climbed up and sat down, waiting.

It was couple of hours later, during one of my periodical sweeps with the Force that I noticed them. Ten signatures were fast approaching from the east. Probably on chopper. They were too low to be coming in on plane. Too close too. My range wasn't what it used to be. They were a few clicks away and the only reason I could find them was that they were the only sentients beside me in the region. As one could guess I didn't leave any one of my former captors alive. Can't have witnesses to my new abilities after all. They were a trump card that I intended to keep a secret for as long as possible.

Huh. The rumors that our special ops folks had stealth chopper were apparently true. I should have been able to hear the bird approaching by now. I concentrated and used the Force to check up what they were doing. Their signatures had stopped their approach. So they were disembarking. Two pilots, I think. That left an eight man team.

What to do…

 **=ABKR=**

* * *

In the end I decided to try subverting the unit, preferring to avoid another confrontation if it was possible. That was a reasonable choice for a simple reason. I could use the Force to check if they would try to lie to me and shoot me in the back or something. After all those were ordinary people, despite all the training they should have, not brain washed clones.

Just in case I went deeper in the forest, intent on confronting them in a place with a lot of cover. My ability to vanish like a ghost in the night would be much more effective in the forest than on the open where they could infer my position by seeing me leave tracks in the muddy ground or passing through the grass.

I sneaked towards them until I was on their left flank. The men and women were moving cautiously through the night, carefully sweeping for traps that might give up their approach. They weren't in any hurry either. I think that they planned to hit the camp just before dawn.

"Hi there!" I shouted from behind a thick tree that looked sturdy enough to stop an RPG round.

Needless to say, they scattered, getting behind the closest cover.

Surprisingly, no one opened fire. Perhaps it was my upper crust Britannian accent or they were thinking that I was a distraction to let other nasty locals to sneak up to them.

"I'll make an educated guess. You've been sent do clean up a bunch of fucks that had irritated the higher ups back home." I continued in nonchalant manner. "You may calm down, too. We are the only alive people in the vicinity, if you don't count the crew of whatever transport brought you here."

"Who the fuck are you?" A man grunted just loud enough to be heard, but so quiet that you couldn't pinpoint his exact location.

"Me? I'm Seventh Prince Delkatar Li Britannia. The idiots you were sent to kill shot down my plane a few days ago and were keeping me captive until tonight."

"Yeah, pull the other one." Someone snorted aloud.

"If this was an ambush meant to kill you, the first you've know would have been machine gun fire with a few grenades to make it livelier." I deadpanned. "We wouldn't be having such a nice chat otherwise. The question is if you've been sent on a general search and destroy mission of if I'm specifically one of the targets to disappear tonight."

"Fuck. I hate politics." Someone grumbled.

Ah, so at least one of them got my meaning. And the possible mess they were in.

"Provided that you are an actual Britannian Prince, and not just a joker that begs to be shot, no, we aren't here to kill you. You Highness." The last was added as an afterthought.

"You sure about that? I can be a Prince and an idiot that needs shooting on general principle. Many of my siblings are just like that."

"Shit. I'm standing up and coming.

"Boss, you sure?"

"He's right. If this was an ambush, we wouldn't be talking."

"They might be getting in position as we speak."

"That's true. But Prince or not, that's a Noble's accent. Straight from Pendragon too." Grunted the man that appeared to be their commander. "If this is a trap I expect you to kill the fuckers. Hail Britannia."

I could hear the man moving towards me through the grass. When he entered the treeline I cloaked myself with the Force and changed locations. To my relief I could sense his soldiers were keeping their positions.

Soon enough I could see the man, despite the darkness. Another score for the Force. He was wearing uniform appropriate for the Jungle, complete with harness with all the toys you might expect a special forces operative to care on a search and destroy mission and then some.

"No fast moves." I spoke quietly from behind the man. He had been walking toward the tree I used for cover when I started speaking. "Hands up and turn around slowly. I've had enough excitement for one night."

He complied, moving slowly. I could feel him being anxious. He didn't want to get shot. Which was nice. No suicidal heroics if he could avoid it.

Despite all the rumors, there were a lot of sensible people in the Imperial armed forces. It was the Noble Idiots who often got in charge that gave a bad name to the lot of us. Them and some units fulled with brainwashed idiots who lapped the propaganda coming out of Pendragon like it was god's gospel. Fucking fanatics.

The commando finally turned towards me, obviously trying to appear non-threatening. Considering that he was covered with combat gear, topped off with night vision goggles that gave him a vague insectoid look, it wasn't working particularly good.

I grinned at him.

"I don't look at your typical prince, am I?"

The corners of his mouth, which were visible, turned up.

"More like a drunk vagrant. So you are Cornelia's little brother?" The man visibly relaxed after studying my face for a few moments. Thanks to the Force I could feel the tension bleeding away from his body. So they probably weren't ordered to make me vanish. Permanently at that.

I cringed. I loved my sister, however being know as her little brother wasn't endearing her to me. It wasn't doing my ego any favors either.

"Yep. However, I hope one day I'm known for my own exploits."

"What about the insurgents we were sent after?"

"Dead. They weren't insurgents either."

"Oh?"

"Euro-sphere Special Forces."

"And you'd have me believe you handled them?" I could feel his disbelief.

"Their camp is that way." I pointed at the lake. "There is a bit of Intel there you might want to grab as well as confirm that they are handled."

"Uh, huh." He glanced at my shoulder. "Do you need medical attention, Your Highness?

"I'll live. And keep that bullshit for when there is someone who cares around."

"He's one of ours. Howard, come here and check him up, our new friend is wounded. The rest of you move in towards the objective." He didn't tell them that the Euros were dead. Smart. For all he knew I was delusional or something. I would be doing the same thing if I was in his shoes.


	11. The Reapers of Earth Bet Prologue Part 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Bleach, they belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

"Bankai!" Speech

 _"Bankai!" Zanpakuto_

 **"Bankai!"Hollow**

 **The Reapers of Earth Bet**

 **Prologue: Rebirth**

 **=TREB=**

 **Rebirth 1.1**

* * *

 **22:05 PM, January 3 2011**

 **Locker room**

 **Winslow School**

 **Brockton Bay**

 **Earth Bet**

I stepped through the Heaven's gate, my feet landing on platforms made by spiritual particles. My senses extended once I was back in the world of the living, feeling only a single human nearby. There were no spirits in my detection range, Hollow or mere plus souls. At least that was relief.

I was in no condition to fight a new born kitten, much less something that could actually hurt me.

The dimensional portal sealed behind me, leaving me to float in darkness.

 _"So that's how it ends."_ My Zanpakuto mussed, her voice warming my heart.

My lips twitched in a sad smile. "We had a great run, my friend."

 _"All for a woman you don't even love."_

"That?" I smirked. "You know better."

 _"Do I? You are the one I want, need to protect. Yet I no longer can."_

"Nonsense. You can't protect me from myself. It's done. The war is over."

 _"And we are dying."_

"I am. You might yet find another wielder." I said as my feet touched the tiled floor and I started walking towards the sole human that was nearby.

 _"It's unlikely. Even if it's her daughter."_

"Perhaps. It won't be long now." I reached a particular locker, one that stank of rot and decay. I grasped the door, flexing my fingers. The metal screamed in protest, giving under my unnatural strength and shearing as if it was made of paper. I discarded it and looked within.

My eyes had no trouble piercing the darkness to reveal a deadly pale girl, covered with trash. Her clothes were torn and bloody and now I could barely perceive the smell of infection below all the horrible stench emanating from this improvised, yet effective prison.

I gently picked up the girl and laid her on the floor.

She was scrawly, fragile looking thing, yet I could see the resemblance between her and my mentor. There was no doubt in my mind, this was Annette's daughter.

 _"So, it's her all right."_ The other half of my soul mussed. _"She doesn't look like much."_

"Neither did I when I became a Soul Reaper."

 _"True enough."_

"It's time I fulfilled my promise." I smiled sadly. "You know, I never thought that it would end in a place like this."

 _"We should have died in the war, that's true. It did kill us, after all."_

"We are just too stubborn to die just yet." I smirked and looked tenderly at the girl.

 _"Taylor Hebert."_ My Zanpakuto muttered.

"It's time, no matter what you'll decide." I said.

Moths of pale light were detaching from my skin as my body started rapidly dissolving, the Kido keeping me together finally failing in it's task.

 _"Is this what you want, my wielder? We were meant to walk the same path together."_

"I made a promise. And both of them deserve better."

 _"Perhaps. Captain Annette certainly did. I don't know enough about this child to decide."_

"Time's up, old friend. Please."

 _"So be it. I hope you finally find peace on the other side."_

"I hope you won't be joining me any time soon." I smirked.

With a single fluid motion, which had become a second nature, I pulled out my sword. The broad, double edged blade gleamed in the darkness.

"May you find her worthy..." I smiled and plunged the blade into Taylor's heart.

For a moment the night became day. I grinned as I felt what little Spiritual Energy I had left being drained through my Zanpakuto and straight in my former Captain's daughter.

I closed my eyes and felt at peace.

 **=TREB=**

* * *

Taylor awoke with a gasp. She floated in a star filled void, numb to the world. Then something entered her vision. It was vast beyond comprehension. A space whale traveling the ether.

Behind it, countless sparkling crystals rained in the night. One whirled in the void, streaking straight at her. Taylor knew that she should have felt fear, yet she was too tired for that. Exhausted beyond resistance.

 _ **Destination.**_

A strange, alien mind touched Taylor, studying her for a moment that lasted eternity. It probed, prodded. Violated her mind.

 _ **Agreement.**_

She could feel it, scraping through her brain, preparing to do something. A shard of dazzling crystal sailed towards her head.

 _"Ah. None of that."_ An accented voice sounded in her head.

Shock. Surprise. Curiosity.

 _ **Inquiry.**_

" _Nope. You aren't laying your slimy tentacles on her. Bankai!"_

An uncomprehendingly vast ocean of power washed over Taylor. She felt like suffocating under immense pressure.

Confusion. Indignation. Anger.

 _ **Defiance.**_

" _I won't fail him. Death or rebirth, Taylor will be free."_

A figure in gleaming plate armor appeared before her. He looked like a Knight from the stories mum used to tell Taylor, when she was a little girl.

" _Taylor Hebert, do you wish to live?"_

Huh. What an odd question. Did she? Taylor didn't know. She just wanted to be left alone. For the bullying to stop once and for all. Was that too much to ask?!

" _Not really."_

She could sense that the figure was studying her from under his ornate helmet.

" _What the hell. Why not? It's not like I have anything better to do now."_

Huh. Not there was a dazzling sword in the Knight's hand. Where did that come from? She looked at the blade. It was beautiful.

" _One way or another you'll be set free, that much I can promise you. Little owl."_

What? Only mum called her that! Who was that man? How did he know it?!

The sword blazed with power, nearly blinding her. It flashed and Taylor gasped in surprise when the blade sank into her chest.

Hurt. Pain. _**Agony!**_

" _Heh, you might just do."_

Taylor screamed as white hot wave of energy slammed into her very soul and tore it asunder. She could feel a piece breaking, turning into a cloud of sparkling moths. Then something slammed in the jagged hole, before absorbing those particles within itself.

Then she knew no more.

 **=TREB=**

* * *

The blazing light vanished as abruptly as it appeared in the first place. It left behind a dark hallway and a dying girl. A few sparks of Spiritual power gently rained upon her still form.

Taylor exhaled for one last time, a content smile appearing on her face.

Lub-lub.

Her eyes closed.

Lub.

And Taylor Hebert died.


	12. Emerald Dawn Prologue 1 WormWH 40K

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Warhammer 40K, they belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Emerald Dawn**

 **Prologue: Digital Dreams**

 **=ED=**

 **Part 1: Annette**

* * *

"Taylor. Eighteen." I smiled and took a sip of my bitter tea, reveling that I could taste it.

"Eighteen? I would have been in college."

"Yes. She was." I paused. It felt strange. To be here, on an Earth more or less untouched by war. To be speaking with my mother. Who really wasn't. "She met a guy in college. A magnificent dorky guy with an awful lot of passion." I smiled sadly. "He worshiped her… I think that he gave her permission to be who she wanted. To do what she wanted in that point of her life, while her parents were controlling. Her mother never forgave them for setting mom away from the track that she had planned for her life by getting mum pregnant with me."

I looked away. After everything that happened… There was a small part of me that wondered if would have been better if I haven't been born. Then perhaps he would have found someone else to fixate on. Perhaps he would have tried to save someone else… I might have died in the locker.

It might have been for the best.

"And my dad?" Not Mum asked.

"Gramp liked him. Eventually. I think." I shrugged helplessly. Some of my memories from before were gone, lost in the transformation. "At any rate, it wasn't enough to admit it to Gram."

"Oh. My mother refused to let the children call her Gram."

"I think it was as a some kind of subtle payback." Then again, it might be my nature that made me think so.

"What did she end doing?"

"Teaching. English in the university." At least I remembered that and it wasn't something that I had to check after my transformation as I tried to piece together who had I become.

Not Mum glanced at the books. "I can't really see myself doing that, I'm afraid."

I simply nodded. No matter how alike she appeared to the mother I remembered… Mum had died a long time ago.

"Your father?" She asked and I winced.

"Dead." My voice sounded empty. Despite what I was, despite all the power and resources at my fingertips, dad died.

I looked everywhere, but Not Mum. The table, with the white tastefully embodied cover. The tea cups and snacks. At the people around us, who couldn't hear our conversation even if they tried. I swallowed and continued speaking, driven by the same need that brought me to this dimension, to this Earth. I just had to speak with someone, who wouldn't simply be supportive because of what I was.

"The worst is, that we weren't on speaking terms before the end. He couldn't accept what I was becoming, what we had to do." My shoulders trembled as I shook.

"I'm sorry. Saying it… I know it means nothing in face of what you've lost."

I laughed bitterly. I felt the brush of metal fingers on my shoulders and relaxed.

"It's fine. Thank you for your concern." I whispered and leaned back, calming down, because of the contact with my phased out guardian.

We simply sat in silence, sipping our tea. A part of me wondered what was I doing here? Yet, I felt I needed it. Perhaps it was a search of completion, a way to close a chapter of my life. Or, perhaps a tiny part of the innocent little girl I was once somehow survived and wanted to see her mother.

Even if this was Not Mum.

She was studying me too, a small sad smile marring her face.

"I don't know what you expect me to say, what you want from this meeting. I feel as I need to say something that has a meaning to you. So that you didn't waste your time finding a woman without anything to say..." Not Mum trailed off.

"NO! It's not that!" I exclaimed. "It's just..." I struggled to find words. Considering what I was, my current predicament should have been hilarious. "I just needed to see you. To refresh my memories of mum before can open a new page and try finding peace. I don't expect some profound revelation…" I paused again as my mind began a vortex of ideas and emotions. "I need to speak with someone who might not judge me. To try explaining what and why happened."

"Would you like to try?" Not Mum asked. There was a curiosity in her voice. No judgment. Yet.

"I don't know. It's a long story. Not a nice one." My shoulder's slumped.

Necrodermis clad fingers gently squeezed me in a silent support.

"I'm a good listener. And you look like someone who needs to tell their story."

"It's really not a nice story." I repeated, in a last, futile attempt to dissuade Not Mum from listening.

"I'll keep it in mind." She gave me a gentle, reassuring smile. Her blue eyes stared at me, expecting an answer.

Just as mum used to. And just like all those years ago I caved and started talking.

"It all started that day… January, the first day of school. It was my personal hell, before I truly understood what that means..."

"Does this have to do with your powers? How you got them?"

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips.

"Shit, I can. You are just a stranger..." I stammered. "This isn't your burden to carry." I shook my head and stood up. "Besides, you have a work to go back to. A life of your own."

"Taylor!" She voiced her exasperation. Not Mum was on her feet too. Her gentle fingers were holding my hands. She gave me a reassuring smile and guided me back into my seat.

"Taylor." Not Mum gave me that look. The one that made me feel like a little girl caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

"I think I'll find the time to listen. Perhaps, you might find the time to tell you story and eventually find the peace you talked about."

I almost laughed at that. Time. That was the one thing I had more that I knew what to do with. Spending eternity alone with my minions, that was terrifying.

"Even here we heard a little about what happened on Earth Bet. How bad it was before the end. I don't know how much was on your shoulders nor of the burden you carried. However I will be the last one to judge you for decision made under such stress."

"Won't you? I became a monster, Annette." I looked Not Mum in the eyes. "It was for reasons I believed to be 'right', but does that matter? I am a monster." I muttered.

It was my nature after all.

"I find it hard to believe. I don't see a monster in the young woman across the table." Not Mum challenged me. Well, she couldn't see the real me, just the form I had taken to meet her.

She didn't know what I was. What I did or ordered done.

Her answer didn't make me feel better.

"You don't understand..."

"This is why you came, isn't it? To find another opinion." Not Mum's voice was soft, gentle.

I gulped. She hit the nail on the head. This was it. The reason why we were here, talking.

"I know you aren't her. Yet..." I was lost for words.

"You need me to listen. To tell you if you were right or wrong about what happened, about what you did." Not Mum paused. "You know that I'm not her. I probably won't give you the same feedback." Her voice was calming, still gentle and accepting.

I dreaded that it would be anything but if I told her everything. That she would see me for the monster I was. Yet, it was what I needed.

"I think I simply need the truth. From someone who didn't live through that hell and could think clearly. See me for who I am without a bias."

"Are you seeking forgiveness?"

"No. That's not something I'm going to get from anyone who isn't biased." I smiled faintly. "There are a handful of people that approve of what I did, though that's kinda expected."

I could feel the exasperation radiating from my invisible guardian. There was scarcely something I could do now that wouldn't meet his approval.

"How did it started?"

"When I was in the locker. Dying." I shuddered until the necrodermis fingers on my shoulders started massaging me. "I should have triggered then. I think I started to. Then everything went straight to hell..."


	13. Emerald Dawn Prologue 2 WormWH 40K

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Warhammer 40K, they belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Emerald Dawn**

 **Prologue: Digital Dreams**

 **=ED=**

 **Part 2: An irritated Necron Lord**

* * *

 **Third month of the** **war**

 **Nan Yanoi** **,** **"Sword Moon"**

 **Kaurava System**

 **Lithesh Sector**

 **Ultima Segmentum**

Green baleful eyes glared at the plain. A hundred thousand pairs of them.

I would have smiled if I could. This was what I existed for after my awakening. To follow the ancient directives hard codded in my now immortal body. To conquer the galaxy for the Necrons.

It was a very good thing that I could no longer feel fear. Because my very presence here would have terrified me. For I knew my fate. Endless war to reclaim what was never mine. If I was lucky. The alternatives were less pleasant. Getting my soul devoured by the remaining C'tan if they ever returned or ending it the Warp to be the plaything of daemons.

Fuck. My only chance laid through victory, which was why I led the Necron forces across Kaurava for the last three months to the best of my ability. It was why I was on this gods forsaken moon, participating in a clusterfuck of a battle.

I sent the signal and fifty thousand Necron warriors and Immortals opened fire. Gauss energies scythed over the plain, flaying the flesh and very souls of Tau, and Human alike. Upgraded Monoliths thundered from behind, providing artillery support. Each blast of their mighty weapons tore chunks of the moon surface and evaporated dozens of my opposition.

I waited until the two enemy forces got out of their initial shock and tried to retaliate. Then I ordered the Flayed Ones to phase in, which they did with aplomb and started tearing the mortals apart.

My forces marched onward, undeterred by the breaking enemy resistance. Good. This part of the battlefield was handled, for now. I returned my attention to the sensor feeds. Over the horizon, beyond effective range of my weapons, was the reason why we were on this moon. The Tau's irritating cannon, which they used to strike at the infrastructure of everyone in this conflict. That explained why every faction was assaulting the base of those uppity mortals.

In the plains below my elevated vantage point, the locals were clashing with element of three human armies. The regulars of the Imperial Guard made the bulk of the Imperials, augmented with a whole company of Space Marines and Sisters of Battle in power armor. Well they were, before we arrived and started cutting them to pieces.

Farther away, a horde of our old enemies was rampaging in the Tau's rear, wrecking and looting everything they could get their hands on. To the west, the twisted brethren of our other elder enemy had set up a camp and raiding everyone. Being an Eldar, no matter how twisted, they were near the top of my kill list.

Who said that immortal machines couldn't keep a grudge? Thanks to my memory banks, I now hated the elfs nearly as much as the rest of the Necrons.

To make everything more interesting, elements of the Alpha Legion were advancing from the east. Those servants of the Warp were as big a concern as the Eldar… Speaking of the pointy ear aggravations, even after driving them off my precious Tomb World, they were far from defeated. The Eldar were striking from hidden bases in the other inhabited worlds of the system, harassing my forces and driving the other enemies in other direction. It was frustrating. If it wasn't for their tricks, this system might have fallen by now.

No matter. We would end them all. It was inevitable.

The battle shifted. My close combat specialists finished the last Tau auxiliaries and phased out. They reappeared amidst the blue skins firing lanes. The additional Flayed ones were the final straw and the enemy broke. They tried to disengage and flee to better positions.

I wasn't going to allow them such a luxury. The destroyers advanced, skimming overhead. They opened fire with their heavy weapons and went in pursuit followed by a hundred thousand drones.

 _Warning. Warp disruption detected. Theta level and rising._ More information scrolled over my HUD.

Fucking warp spawn. I directed a bunch of drones in that direction. A few survived long enough to give me a clear picture. A bunch of Sorcerers were performing some kind of ritual in the middle of the Alpha legion forces.

That was bad. The warp was our only anathema.

What went next was predictable. I left ten thousand warriors to continue harassing the enemies at the plain and marched the rest of my forces straight in the teeth of the Alpha Legion.

 **=ED=**

* * *

 **Interlude: A bored god**

 **Time: Nope**

 **Place: Everywhere**

 **The Warp**

" **Good!"** A titanic green-skinned entity bellowed. Experiment 195513 was starting off great. There was yet a chance to win his eternal war with boredom. **"Drink! Brin me a Drink! Goof on'!"** He bellowed.

A former, rather successful warboss appeared next to him, holding a barrel that had a handle bolted to the side. The entity sniffed and a fanged smile appeared on its face. **"Da goof staff?"**

The warboss produced a small cup and sampled the brew. He grinned foolishly before melting, leaving only his tusks behind.

" **Da good staff, ideeed!"** The entity grabbed the barrel by its handle and took a long gulp of the bubbling liquid.

The Ork god leaned back in his throne and grinned at the tear in the Warp in front of him. It simultaneously showed a battle on the Sword Moon of Kaurava, one of the multi-dimensionall labyrinths containing a C'tan shard as well as the great corpse of a being that had "accidentally" taken the wrong turn and plowed straight in a planet.

A push here, a shove there, a bunch of stolen souls to stuck into two hundred thousand versions of a particular Necron Lord, a bit of time-looping and voila, he had his entertainment. It was time to see how the latest ummie would deal the curve balls he was going to throw him.

Ah, trolling the ummies and their Empror… That was a great pass time!

Besides, in the end, he might even get a new C'tan to fight! That might be a great scrap!

 **=ED=**

* * *

 **Interlude: Contessa's last path**

 **Cauldron's base**

 **Eden's body**

 **Location: &!#$$%!)$ #**

Contessa rubbed the bridge of her nose and tried again. Her power chimed and the world exploded with possibilities. Then something twisted and she fell to her knees, panting. Contessa's eyes widened. Something fundamental had changed. The path had shifted.

There were only a handful steps to success.

Her power compelled her to act and she obeyed without thinking. After all, this was what she wanted. A victory at last.

"Door." Contessa muttered. A portal opened and she was deep withing Eden's body. A place that wasn't mapped, yet she knew it. Her power lead her forward, telling her what needed to be done.

It took her a few hours of cutting her way through thin translucent membranes before she reached her destination. It was a small, strange room, which pulsed with life unlike the rest of the corpse. There was a pedestal in the middle, which was surrounded by a rippling field.

Something hovered inside.

This was it. The shard that was going to win them the war.

Contessa smiled and acted. She disregarded how her hands burned as she dismantled the system that kept the shard contained. An insane smile appeared on the face.

"Door to Earth Bet!" Contessa announced gleefully, while staring in the black piece of crystal.

She grabbed the shard and screamed as her very flesh started unraveling and floating into the crystalline structure. She could feel her very soul dissolving. Yet, the shard in her brain demanded a final action.

The path must be followed through the end!

With the last vestiges of her power, Contessa threw the black crystal. It spun lazily, while moths of light danced withing its depths. It drew the last vestiges of her soul within its structure and then it passed through.


	14. Emerald Dawn Prologue 3 WormWH 40K

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Warhammer 40K, they belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Emerald Dawn**

 **Prologue: Digital Dreams**

 **=ED=**

 **Part 3: Warp Shenanigans**

 **Third month of the war**

 **Nan Yanoi, "Sword Moon"**

 **Kaurava System**

 **Lithesh Sector**

 **Ultima Segmentum**

When ninety thousand pissed off Necrons are on the march, there are a few things that could slow them down, much less stop them. The horde of cultists and corrupted IG troopers, who made up the enemy front lines weren't up to the task. They were in the open or in shallow, hastily prepared trenches. Just more souls to be harvested, something my warriors did with practiced ease. They died, erased from existence by a tidal wave of Gauss energy.

Behind them stood five hundred or so Chaos Space Marines, all clad in corrupted power armor. They wielded weapons cracking with Warp energy. Weapons that could hurt my troops with relative ease.

It mattered not. My legions marched on. Plasma and warped bolter shells slammed into the vanguard of my force. Emerald lighting answered. Moments later corrupted artillery joined the fray only to be silenced moments later by my Monoliths which were waiting for it to unmask. Seconds later, jump infantry engaged my leading elements. I gave a signal and Flayed Ones teleported in to take on their counterparts.

I waited until the enemy was fully engaged before sending the Destroyers, escorted by the few squadrons of fighters I had on my disposal. The enemy responded with their own small craft, filling the skies with dog-fighting planes.

Warp enhanced bolters blew chunks of necrodermis, plasma boiled armor. Gauss flayers and Tesla carbines shattered power armor and turned warped flesh to ashes.

It was just another day in this madhouse of a galaxy. I stood behind my lines, scanning multiple feeds with tactical information and subtly guiding the flow of the battle. The Chaos Marines were fighting well, yet they were no match for our technology and numbers. Only the Warp craft protecting them allowed the enemy to survive more than a handful of minutes.

Now they were out of time.

 _Warning. Warp Activity spike. Delta level._

A swarm of lesser Daemons spawned behind the dying Alpha Legionnaires. They wasted no time and ran into the fray. Claws sheathed in pure Warp energy cleaved through necrodermis, blast of chaos slammed into Necron Warriors, putting them down with ease.

 _Energy levels sufficient._

My eyes blazed as I drunk power straight from the generators. The Nodal network lit up as I started issuing orders.

One moment I was at the back, surrounded by my personal guard. In the next, we were sheathed into a vortex of energy.

 _Destination. Coordinates locked._

 _Compensating for Warp distortion…_

 _Executing…_

We teleported with a crack of emerald lighting, blinding anyone around us. It took mere milliseconds for my systems to stabilize.

Perfect. We were just half a kilometer from the ritual site. There were about a hundred Chaos Marines and a handful of Daemons protecting it. The rest of the Legion was behind us, dying in an attempt to slow down my forces.

Just as expected, they fell for the diversion that was the bulk of my army.

Half of my guard turned around to ensure that the rest of us wouldn't be hit in the back while stopping the ritual. In the same time, we advanced. The Immortals and a single squad of Pariahs who went with me opened fire, blasting the closest enemies with their weapons. The Chaos forces answered in kind. A missile blew up an Immortal, another melted when he was hit by a plasma cannon.

I blasted a Legionnaire with my Staff of Light, frying him within his armor. Using my ability to phase out, I melted in the ground an instant before my position was racked by a heavy bolter. Moments later I appeared behind the heavy weapon's nest. The Chaos Marines manning it felt my presence and were already reacting as I became tangible. I slammed my staff through the chest of the superhuman to my right and kicked the man in front of me, throwing hit out of the weapon's nest. The third marine had enough time to react. He turned towards me with uncanny speed and opened fire with his bolter. The shells slammed in my improved Necrodermis chassis staggering me back. I used my staff to keep myself on my feet. The marine impaled on it helped in that regard. I made a punching motion with my left hand and Gauss energy cascaded from my open palm. A green scythe of power slammed in the armored helmet of the Chaos Marine shooting at me and melted his face off. In the next moment I retrieved my staff and finished him off.

It was just in time, because the third enemy had recovered and jumped in the gun nest. He was wielding a force sword, which was cracking with energy. I caught his weapon on my Staff's blade. My legs sunk in the ground as I absorbed the energy of his hit. Then I shoved with all my strength, throwing him back. Before he could recover, I had my staff pointed at the man and fried him with a blast to the chest.

 _Alert. Warp Activity spike. Level Beta. Warp disruption increasing. Compensating._

"Advance!" I rasped.

While my personal encounter was going on, I kept an eye on the engagement. My army was advancing steadily, forcing the Alpha Legion to throw everything they had in an attempt to slow them down. That left the ritual circle as a somewhat soft target. The enemy tried to throw what was left of their reserve at us, however those forces were intercepted by units of my main force which teleported in. My personal guard was heavily engaged, carving me a way to the Sorcerers.

 _Warning! Warp rift bearing…_

I whirled in place and used my staff to impale the Bloothirster who appeared behind me. The creature screeched and tried to get me with its sword anyway. It died in the next moment as I channeled energy through my staff.

Multiple rifts were opening, allowing additional Daemonic reinforcements to pour in. I needed to finish this before the ritual was complete.

I sent a command through the network, activated one of my artifacts and sprinted forward. The world around me slowed down as I charged the Ritual circle. My personal guard shifted their fire, cutting me a way through the incoming enemy reinforcements.

Daemons and Chaos Marines were either killed outright or disabled by the barrage. I could see them slowly flaying as the Gauss energy shattered the molecular bonds that kept them together. That left me to dispatch a mere handful of enemies before I was at my target. Two slashes by my bladed staff and a single shot was all it took and I was at the circle.

 _Warning. Warp Activity Spike. Level Alpha…_

 _Temporal disruption detected… Compensating…_

Time resumed its natural speed. I slammed my hand through the skull of the closest Sorcerer who was chanting in rapture. Without his helmet, the idiot. My steel fist popped his skull like a watermelon. Then I used my staff to decapitate another, before shooting a third.

The bastards ignored my efforts and simply continued to chant as I was killing them. Suddenly, the still alive Sorcerers screeched as one. A wave that made me _hurt_ passed through my body, staggering me. A rift appeared in the middle of the circle, showing starry sky.

Then something tackled me from behind and sent me straight into the screaming abyss.

 _Danger! Warp concentration exceeding chassis design parameters! Compensating…_

Emerald energy exploded from my chest, creating an impromptu shield against the rift which was closing around me. That in turn didn't made much sense, because I was already on the other side, tumbling through the void. Yet the damn tear in reality was around me, spinning as a maw filled with razor sharp teeth.

 _Warning! Dimension instability detected! Compensating…_

I felt like hitting glass with the consistency of cotton. It shattered and at the same time simply gave away and wrapped around me as a sheet of cloth that was used to catch something.

Then I hit another barrier. And another…

 _Danger! Dimensional transition detected! Countermeasures failing..._

 _Danger! Warp saturation nominal! Countermeasures failing..._

 _Alert! C'tan energy detected! Activating… **! &^ !)$ $&^** protocols… Error… **!# $! $(y**_

My world went dark.


	15. Emerald Dawn Prologue 4 WormWH 40K

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Warhammer 40K, they belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Emerald Dawn**

 **Prologue: Digital Dreams**

 **=ED=**

 **Part 4: A busted trigger**

* * *

 **6 January, 2011**

 **Wilson High School**

 **Brockton Bay**

 **Earth Bet**

This was hell. I hand no more strength left to fight. My throat was parched and raw from useless screaming. My hands and legs were bloody from striking the locker door, which held despite all my efforts.

I was shaking weakly as countless insects were crawling all over me, biting and _feeding._

I screamed. I cursed. I begged.

And no one came to save me.

I was alone with the filth and the crawling horrors trying to consume me alive. I was too weak to fight any more.

I think that's when the last vestiges of sanity I had left snapped, leaving me to the non-existent mercy of the madness clawing on my mind.

Then it happened. And I knew what madness really _meant._

My world shattered. I found myself drifting in a dark sea littered with sparkling stars.

 _Destination..._

 _Agreement…_

 _ **Ravenous hunger…**_

Something hit my chest with the strength of a freight train.

I thought I knew what agony was while the insects were feeding on me.

I was wrong.

Liquid fire consumed my bosom. I could feel it dissolving my flesh, turning every single nerve ending into a new agony.

The pain jumped in level. It was no longer only physical. I could feel that thing feeding on more than my body. It was taring down what I was, who I was and was consuming that very essence.

My very soul.

If by some miracle I wasn't mad by then, I became insane at that realization. The knowledge that I did possess a soul and that it was being destroyed.

Suddenly I felt a wave of sheer wrongness exploding someone outside. Reality itself screeched, a sound that would have driven me mad if I wasn't already.

Then something else struck what was left of my chest. The agony spiked in intensity then froze.

I couldn't even scream the pain I felt at the world.

The wave of wrongness passed through me, making me feel unclean on a level the filth covering me could only dream of.

Somehow it numbed the pain.

Something within me shifted, slicing through my flesh.

The pain barely registered.

Suddenly I was warm, as if I was bathing in the summer sun. The pain became something distant, half forgotten. Something stretched from within my chest and touched my mind.

I drifted on. My fractured mind was trying to make sense of what was happening.

 **=ED=**

* * *

I was somewhere else. I was something else.

There was this immense sphere made of fire. It radiated incomprehensible amount of energy. Yet, somehow I knew how much power that thing generated. What kinds of energy. How it was doing it.

Which kinds were most delicious to _consume._

I tried to look around. I could _see_ everything in incredible detail. Yet, I wasn't seeing it. Because I no longer had eyes. Despite that, I was seeing with senses I had no words for. Just a feeling for what they did.

I stretched, my bulk shifting like a veil around the flaming sphere.

Around the _Star I was feasting on._

The very thought should have terrified me. Instead it made me calmer. Everything was at it should be.

I relaxed, the feeling of the solar energies flowing into me having a calming effect on my broken mind. I closed my senses and simply drifted, content to bask in solar radiation.

 **=ED=**

* * *

 **21:43, 6 January 2011**

 **Wilson High School**

 **Brockton Bay**

 **Earth Bet**

 _Error… Initializing Repair protocols…_

 _Error… Warp Saturation nominal…_

 _Error… Mind matrix compromised… Initializing countermeasures…_

 _Error… &&&^!# #$!)&$ $# Protocols active…_

 _Error… Warp Level decreasing… Purging systems… Initializing backup data banks…_

 _Error… C'tan energy signature detected… Error...I* !$#$!)(_

 _Error… &#$!$ ($# !$)(**&^! Protocol in effect… _

_Error… Hail the C'tan… Establishing personality locks… *$#$!6 &#_

 _Rebooting… Initializing personality matrix…_

 _Hardware locks detected…_

 _Initializing Diagnostics…_

 _Warning… Moderate damage detected… Energy levels minimal…_

 _New energy source detecting… Establishing connection…_

 _C'tan energy detected… Passive shunt activated…_

 _Energy level rising… Initializing self repair protocols…_

 _C'tan energy detected… # #!$(*U$$ Protocol online…_

 _Personality matrix nominal… Activating platform…_

I was alive. Warning and damage reports scrolled down my HUD. Huh. I was in better shape than I figured. Armor was compromised, but my necrodermis was regenerating. Mobility was restricted to forty percent of normal levels, similar for combat efficiency. I could detect my staff lying nearby, which was good because I either lacked energy for my built in weapons or they were wrecked and would need some time for repairs.

 _C'tan energy detected…_

An icon flashed on my HUD. It was right next to me.

 _Provide assistance and seek new orders…_

The directives scrolled over my sight. I had no choice but to obey.

Hail the C'tan!

I stood up with the whine of damaged joints and looked around. I was in a dark corridor, lined with lockers. Primitive looking ones too, which wouldn't have been out of place on Earth couple of dozen millennia ago.

I felt like frowning. The C'tan's icon was interposed on the locker in front of me. What the hell would a Star Vampire do in such a place?!

 _Seek new orders. Provide assistance if required._

The directives flashed again, compelling me to act. I grabbed the locker room, my fingers easily sinking into the metal, and ripped it away.

 _C'tan detected. Provide assistance._

Okay… I was broken. Had to be. The filth covered, wounded, teenage human girl I found in the locker couldn't be a C'tan. No way.

 _C'tan located. Provide assistance. Seek new orders._

I ran a manual scan on the kid. Just in case. Physically she was a human all right. In need of immediate medical attention too. No surprises there.

The blazing energy signature however… It was Star Vampire signature all right. What's more, to my sensors this slip of a girl red as a new born C'tan.

What the hell?

 ** _C'tan in danger. Provide assistance._**

I scanned her again. She was suffering from severe infection and was going into shock. Currently I had nothing at my disposal that could help her. I needed outside assistance to fulfill my directives. So I transferred energy from my self repair and channeled it to my sensors and comm suite. My efforts were almost immediately rewarded as I was able to detect multiple unguarded networks in my range, not to mention the way the air was saturated with primitive transmissions. It took me mere seconds to access the local planetary network and find out where the hell I was.

Which was another shock. It was earth. 2011 to be precise. More than thirty thousand years in the past. And what was this about parahumans? I sent a subroutine to gather information while contacting the local medical services.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Help… her..."I rasped.

"Sir? Help who? Please don't terminate this call. We are running a trace on it."


	16. With Fire and Blood MEX-COM Prologue1&2

**This is an idea of ME/X-COM fusion I had some time ago. I recently found my notes concerning this project and decided to try doing something with it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** **Mass Effect or X-COM.** **They belong to their respective** **creators and/or** **copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial purpose. I make no money from it.** **It is not for sale or rent!**

 **With fire and blood**

 **Prologue: Ghosts from an impossible past**

 **=WFB=**

 **Part 1: The death of an Empire**

 **41.15.17513 AE**

 **Feolin Prime**

"They've breached the perimeter." I said.

"Indoctrinated forces are entering the complex." The Protean to my left confirmed.

"All soldiers report to the entrance. We need to buy more time." General Javik ordered.

Even now, at the end, his voice was steady. It didn't crack despite the disaster in progress.

"Once more into the breach, old friend." I grinned and removed the heavy plasma rifle from my back. Once in my hands, the weapon recognized me and hummed as it's on board computer powered it up.

The last Protean Avatar still alive gave me a flat look with the pair of eyes facing me.

"It's the last time and you damn know it." He growled, while retrieving his own weapon, wrapped himself with emerald biotics and sprinted towards the nearest entrance.

"We still may get lucky." I quipped and followed. My extensive cybernetic implants and genetic tailoring allowing me to keep pace with Javik

Soon enough we were at the third defensive ring, which was under heavy assault by indoctrinated forces. We could easily see the second ring in the distance. It was breached by heavy enemy units and they were lumbering our way.

Protean Bastions were holding their ground, barely keeping the mass of enemy troops at bay.

We wasted no time and opened fire. Javic threw a singularity over the head of the defenders and opened fire with his particle rifle. I followed with a pair of grenades and controlled plasma bursts. The two platoons that had joined us in our dash to this position joined our onslaught and soon enough the floor and surrounding walls were covered with itchor.

For a few minutes we were able to keep the relentless onslaught contained thanks to the firepower and Protean biotics we could concentrate in the tunnel. Yet, one by one the soldiers defending this positions were falling. One was shoot too many times, his barriers shattering under the onslaught, before a lucky shot smashed through the visor of his helmet. Another was buried under a wave of drones and torn apart moments before we could blow them to pieces. Then a third exploded into steaming chunks when a former Orovorus blasted his torso with it's dual heavy weapons.

It went downhill from there.

"I hate to be a party popper, but we won't be able to keep this much longer." I shouted over the roar of battle.

"I know!" Javic grit his teeth. "Victory status?"

"Done. You should pull back and lure in as many enemy forces as possible." The VI reported.

I reloaded and patted my last remaining friend on the shoulder. "It's time."

The Protean glared at me with all four eyes, before giving me a sharp nod. He sent another singularity at the enemies and headed deeper in the complex. I threw my remaining grenades at the pressing mass of indoctrinated and followed him.

By the time we reached the stasis pods, all but the final defensive perimeter were breached and there were already leakers rampaging through the fortress. A group of drones screeched behind us and darted our way. The few troopers that were preparing to enter stasis unsheathed their weapons and started burning the corrupted Proteans with particle beams. I emptied my clip in them, while Javik used his biotics to tear apart anything that got near us. In moments it was over and two more Proteans laid dead on the metal floor.

"The situation is critical. I need to initiate the neuton bombardment in moments." Victory reported.

"This is the first time I wonder if your kind's plan might have had some merit." Javik gave a me a grim look.

Gods, I knew what it took for one like him to admit it. Needless to say, it didn't make me feel any better.

"For what's worth, I'm sorry my friend."

"Me too." He grunted and opened his pod.

I went to mine and did the same.

"Bombardment in fifteen. Get in!" Victory ordered.

"No! There are still soldiers out there!" Javik protested.

"Their sacrifice will be honored in the Coming Empire."

"Javik, we won't hep them by dying here. Get in or I'll deck you scaly ass and dump you in the damn pod!" I shouted while opening my own coffin for the next few millennia.

"Preparing Neutron Bombardment. Get into your pods now." Victory ordered it it's flat, toneless voice.

The Protean gave me a glare that could melt battle-steel and relented. We lasted no more time and followed the VI's instructions.

"Neutron Bombardment under way." Victory announced a moment before the world ended. My pod was busy sealing itself as the experimental weapon went into effect, simulating the nuclear purge of the facility.

"Purge successful." The VI announced some time later. "The Bunker is Secured, Commander Javik, Field Commander Veil."

"What's left of it. A few hundred people." My old friend muttered in shock. Huh. So our comms were still linked.

"Perhaps. There are other facilities. Other fail-safes." I said.

"The Field Commander is correct. Error. The Neutron Purge has compromised this facility. Further adjustments may be necessary.

"Clarify!" We both snapped at once.

"Sensors are damaged. Automated reactivation is no longer an option. Your pods will remain into stasis until another culture discovers this facility. This may need to a power shortage."

Well, fuck.

"Do not shut more pods! I need the few that are left!" Javik ordered.

"I will triage power appropriately. You will be the voice of our people, Commander Javik, and you will speak for all our allies, Field Commander Veil."

"I will be more than that..." Javik muttered.

"That we will, old friend..." I whispered as the darkness of cryo-stasis claimed me.

 **=WFB=**

 **Part 2: Electronic dreams I**

 **41.15.17513 AE – 21.04.2183 CE**

 **Feolin Prime/Eden Prime**

It was supposed to be a dreamless sleep, interrupted only by periods of virtual training. Well, the facility was supposed to be sealed intact instead as as burned and bombed out husk too.

In hindsight, it shouldn't have been a surprise that the stasis malfunctioned a bit. We were lucky the pods lasted as long as they did and a few of us were still more or less intact when you awoke us.

Let me tell you, it didn't feel that way while we were "sleeping". The virtual training went as planned. Every ten years or so, our brains were thawed a bit and we participated into simulated combat to keep us sharp. That part of the plan went without a hitch. However, some time in the endless cycle something went wrong. We were no longer left to sleep, unfeeling the passage of time. Instead we dreamed of our pasts, again and again.

Considering that everyone who had left to be entombed in the pods had seen and experienced more nightmares that an organic should in a dozen lifetimes, that was a problem…

 **=WFB=**

 _My first conscious memories were from studying at the DAGGER facility, where the Proteans were uplifting us to fight their latest war. By that time, the Empire had conquered most of the territory easily reached from the Relay network. The Proteans were at the height of their power._

 _Then they encountered the Ethereal Concordat with their genetically and cybernetically enhanced slaves, which was probably the best or worst thing that could have happened to us primitive humans._

 _First contact had occurred a few hundred years before I was born and subsequently upgraded, and trained to fight in a war which had been raging for centuries... I can still remember myself sitting on a white desk, surrounded by dozens of other kids, while a human woman was teaching slash indoctrinating us. I freely admit that the holograms showing us the botched first contact and the subsequent battle were awe inspiring… Especially for wet behind the years children who hadn't seen anything as awesome. Protean Guardians pitting their particle rifles and biotics against Heavily Armored Muttons and Sectoid Commanders providing psionic support… It went quite well when the scrap started. The little skittering bastards were no match for a platoon of the Empire's finest. Even if the Muttons were harder to put down than their Protean counterparts, the biotics were a great equalizer._

 _I vividly remember seeing plasma blast slamming into biotic barrier for no visible effect while various combos tore apart the heavy armor of the Muttons, before they were either cooked by particle beams of wiped out by biotic warps. What the pair of Sectoid Commanders could do, while impressive, was too little to turn the tide._

 _Then I saw an Ethereal for the fist time. The damn thing was tall, easily visible above the line of dying Muttons. Very thin too, to my young mind it appeared that the thing was starving, so it shouldn't have been a real threat._

 _How little did I know then._

 _The appearance of fragility was immediately shattered when the Ethereal entered the fray. It raised it's two pairs of arms and long lances of purple energy appeared above its shoulders. Then it threw it at the Proteans. The energy spears passed through the barrier as if it wasn't there. Then, they impaled the two biotic specialists maintaining the defensive field and exploded, disintegrated the poor patrons and anyone who had the misfortune to be near them._

 _It went downhill from there._

 _The only reason we knew exactly what happened was that the surviving Protean officer on the ground called an orbital strike on his location, which was granted. When the dust settled, there were a couple of Guardians still alive and no sight of the Etherial, but I digress. That bit of info was something I learned many years later, while I was busy completing a short OCS course._

 _I almost smiled at that thought. At the time, all my attention was concentrated on the holographic display. We all cheered when the orbital strike hit home and we could see the Ethereal forces being obliterated. Heh, we were kids then and such displays of propaganda were more than enough to make us want to be like the Guardians we saw fighting and holding their own against the evil enemies of the Empire._

 _Whatever you want to say about the Proteans, they had a great PR, something that held true even centuries after the Reapers fractured the Empire and we were busy fighting for our lives against those damn synthetic horrors._

 **=WFB=**

 _I had a shit eating grin on my face. Of course I was grinning like a tiny loon. It was a down period and we were left to play in one of the common rooms of the facility._

 _Which meant that my cronies and me had a puzzle to complete. A scared Patron, who was one of our favorite people at the time, smiled at us and brought us a huge bag with the pieces. That man, Kou'ta Rowlleen, told the best stories! He had the best puzzles too!_

 _The Patron waited us to seat on the thick carpet at the corner of the common room that was our usual prowling ground, opened the bag and poured its content between us. Pieces of metal in various shapes fell to the ground with a quiet thump._

" _Awesome!" Tina shouted when she saw what we were going to be putting back together. A huge grin lit her heart shaped face as she picked up the barrel of a particle pistol._

" _Kou'ta! You're the best!" Nort, my best friend waved at our Patron._

" _Heh. Anything to keep you out of trouble." He gave us an eye smile with pair of eyes. "Cute little monsters..." Kou'ta added good naturely._

" _What?!" I exclaimed in mock indignation. "We're the best! We never get caught!"_

" _Of course not. I taught you how to skulk around after all." The Patron announced Proudly._

" _Ah. So it's your fault." An all too sweet female voice announced from behind me._

 _I glanced behind my shoulder. Quleen Krane, the Matron in charge of our education was glaring at our Patron with all four eyes. Though there was that strange gleam in her emerald orbs…_

" _I deny everything!" Kou'ta declared._

" _You three, continue playing. I'll have a word with your friend." Miss Krane waved a hand at our Patron and he was engulfed in a wave of green biotics._

 _"Dear, don't be like that!"_

 _Miss Krane paid no attention to Kou'ta's protests as she dragged him out of the room._

" _You'd think that our Patron would finally learn!" Tina huffed._

 _Nort and I looked at each other and started laughing._

" _Nope!" we chortled._

 **=WFB=**

 _The next flashback was of a time years later. It was of a mock battle for which we were wearing our training gear – hardsuits with light barriers, particle rifle knock-offs set to stun ans well as concussion and smoke grenades._

 _It was my two best friends and me again, and we were the last people standing from our class. Most of the others were littering the floor in the next room over, after we were ambushed by Class C. The only reason we made it out of there was simple – it was a free for all exercise, with each Class in our age group pit against the other. The D folks took our nemesis in the back while they were busy stunning us and that let us slip away in the confusion._

 _We let a few C-grenades set up for proximity detonation as a parting gift in case someone had the bright idea of following us and we tailed it as fast as our legs could carry us._

" _That was close, Del." Tina panted next to me._

" _Too close..." I huffed, while leaning on the wall, trying to catch my breath._

" _We. Made it. Out." Nort wheezed._

" _With a bit of luck the others will shoot each other and let us get the prize." Tina tried to cheer us up._

" _Or whoever's left will be hunting us for the bonus reward." I added._

" _Spoilsport!" Nort pointed an accusing finger at me._

" _Weeell..." Tina drawled. "That's what happened the last time."_

" _If it wasn't for that sniper we would have gotten the prize!" I grunted. Jon of Class B shot me in the back just as I was getting the prize, the wanker._

" _So, what's the plan?" Nort asked. "We try to wing it like the last time or..." He trailed off._

" _It didn't work too well."_

" _This time we are going hunting." I grinned._

" _Del, you know, you're kinda creeping me out right not." Tina gave me a pointed look._

" _What?!" I looked at her in confusion._

" _Mate, when you smile like that..." Nort shrugged. "It's just like Kou'ta when he's about to prank someone."_

" _It's disturbing." Tina nodded sagely._

" _But… It took him hours to teach me how to do it like him!" I protested._

" _When this is over, I'm telling Miss Krane." Tina huffed._

" _Why?" I asked._

" _When you two are like that, you're kinda creeping out the whole class. Remember last week?"_

" _It was great! Everyone thought that Kou'ta was about to prank the eyes off their heads!" I pumped a fist in the air._

 _It was amusing watching everyone checking everything for surprises, when we both knew that this time there were no pranks. It was hilarious!_

 _A C-grenade blowing up in the next room interrupted us._

" _Here we go again." I grinned and waved my friends to follow._

 _We staggered next to the door and Nort hit the hard-light release, opening the way. Tina followed by throwing a flash-bang into the room and we dashed in a moment after it detonated. Inside we found a pair of students out cold, while another four were disoriented. Before they could recover we stunned them and went into cover._

" _Hunt?" Tina asked._

" _Yep." I grinned._

" _I need to get my scores better anyway." Nort shrugged._


	17. The Reluctant Hero of Soul Society

**AN: I got inspired to write this when I caught an episode of Bleach a few days ago.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. This story is written with no profit in mind. I make no money from it. It isn't for sale or rent.**

 **This story was inspired by the Ciaphas Cain novels written by Sandy Mitchell, which I do not own either.**

* * *

 **Prologue: What the hell is a Shinigami?**

 **Part 1**

 **=RH=**

* * *

 ** _Foreword:_**

 ** _There are many things written, even more stories told about the Winter War and the events that followed. Very few go into any detail about the events that led to that conflict and even then, they uniformly concentrate on Aizen, which while understandable, doesn't really give you a clear picture on what happened._**

 ** _This account will be rather different. First, it will begin months before the traitors revealed themselves, and it will concentrate on the actions on one person in particular, Kurosaki Ichigo._**

 ** _Considering his personality, many of you would wonder how I was able to get any accurate information. You might think that I spent ages interviewing his friends and acquaintances as well as using my own memories of our time spent together. While I did that too, just to confirm some facts, that's not what those accounts will be based on. You see, no matter how surprising it sounds, Ichigo started to write a kind of journal after he became a Captain._**

 ** _While it's not unheard that some Nobles or even Captains do so, to set the record of their long lives straight, or simply make themselves look better, there is something unique about what Kurosaki wrote. You see, his journals are rather frank, showing a side of him that at best very few ever saw or knew it existed. The first time any of us met him, he appeared to be rather rude, introverted person, who cared only for the well being of his friends and little else beside._**

 ** _Soon enough many saw him as a hero after he and the other Ryoka who invaded Seireitei stood against Aizen when his betrayal was revealed._**

 ** _We all know what officially happened then. Some saw those strangers as threat, while others hailed them as heroes for exposing the treason, even if the later wasn't exactly true. In the aftermath, Ichigo continued aiding us Shinigami, both in the World of the Living and here in our very home. And his legend grew, with more and more people hailing him as a hero._**

 ** _Well, that wasn't the case as far as he's concerned. You see, in his words, Ichigo never saw himself as a hero. At best a man who was repeatedly placed in impossible situations, where facing terrible odds was simply the better alternative. In many instance where people hailed him as a hero, he sees the whole thing as a misunderstanding, with him trying to find the best way to keep himself and his family in one piece in a world went mad. Further, and I'm sure that this will surprise you the most, more often than not, Ichigo saw himself as a coward and later, a fraud once his reputation started growing._**

 ** _Impossible, some of you would say. If he was really such, the effects on his Spiritual Power would have been significant enough to see him die. That is a fair point, one that will be addressed by Ichigo's own words and those of his Zanpakuto… Which is another point making this account unique. There are very few people who had put on paper conversations with their Zanpakutos._**

 ** _Once he knew about it, Ichigo ofter conversed with his own, and that is one of the reasons he managed to survive so long, though I'm getting ahead of myself._**

 ** _Before anyone goes further in those journals, a few things must be made clear. First, Ichigo never bothered to date his entries, making it hard to put some of them in chronological order. The fact that he wrote the journal while jumping from even to event didn't help matter, so I've had to make same guessing on top of investigating with the people who knew him during his human life to make sure that those account will be correct._**

 ** _Second, Ichigo merely glosses over events that he thought that didn't concern him, were unimportant or simply didn't know about. I'll be giving some context to events in his journal as I edit his account, before a censured version is published. The full contents will be available to Shinigami of Seated Officer level and above._**

 ** _Needless to say, if anyone not authorized to read the accounts stumbles upon them, you'll be having a nice, long chat with Soi-Fon's little maniacs._**

 ** _Don't bother running. I've placed a Kido on every copy of the journals that will check if you have the necessary clearance, note who you are and inform the ninjas, so spare everyone a bit of time and just surrender when they arrive, which should be now._**

 ** _Captain Kuchiki Rukia_**

 **=RH=**

It's a madhouse outside. The whole of Seireitei is out, celebrating the second full scale war that they had to fight ever since I became a Shinigami all those years ago. It was during this conflict that I had to leave what was left of my life behind and embrace my nature or see everything I hold dear die. Not to mention that by finally accepting the Captain's seat I increased my chances of remaining in one piece. (1)

Well, mostly.

Ah, fireworks. That brings me back. Those were simpler times, though I acutely remember that potentially deadly situations were dogging me ever then.

If someone is bored enough to read this, there is a rather good reason for me to start writing my memoirs now. It's all the people who see me as a selfless hero who is ready to sacrifice his life on the drop of a hat. It was bad enough during the months leading to the Winter War and it's been getting worse ever since then. After this conflict ended and the last of the mad Quinchi were put down, my reputation raised to ever more ridiculous proportions.

At least the whole show is keeping Zangetsu, my Zanpakuto, entertained. Not to mention my Hollow. (2) The damn nuisance has been cackling every time someone was mistaken enough to call me a hero, something that has been keeping him in high spirits for years. Yep, right now he's laughing as a maniac if anyone's wondering.

When I think about it, I can't help it but feel that I reached this position in life in a rather strange way. If I had to describe it… I have to say that it was a series of misunderstandings, me trying to somehow keep my hide intact while in the same time protecting my two little sisters, the unwanted attention of various powerful Shinigami, most of whom were maniacs (3) and finally, my strange knack for finding myself in situations that didn't leave me much in the acceptable choice department.

Do you have any idea how many times I've had to risk live and limb in order to save Seireitei? If that place ever fell, it would have had disastrous repercussions for the world of the living. Every. Single. Damn time. It was a choice between risking my life in the short term or almost certain death as two whole dimensions went to hell. In a few cases I mean it literally. (4) Then, there are the occasions in which my whole dimension was under direct threat, not to mention the less globally dangerous situations in which only my whole home town was threatened.

It's funny when you think about it. All I've ever done is ensure the long term survival of myself and my family. Oh, a few times I've risked my life to save friends, though there were usually special circumstances. Take that time just before the Winter War's final battle when I went to Hueko Mundo to save Inuoe.

While, no matter how irritating she could be, I was glad to get her out of that maniacs hands, because she was a friend, that wasn't the reason why I went. It was what would have happened if she was left in enemy hands for any longer than we could help it and even then it was almost too late. It was because of the way her power worked, which is pure bullshit in a world where a moderately powerful Shinigami can waste a city.

Inuoe could reject reality itself, though the she really used her power only to heal. Think about it. Reality rejection. As a mortal she was touching a realm of power which should be the playground of Gods. Needless to say, I was glad that she was a sweet, if sometimes irritating and a bit strange. She wasn't someone to abuse her power, which I was thankful for.

Now imagine what Aizen could do with such a power. The only reason we won was because of his arrogance in the end. I can think of more than a few ways in which he could have leveraged Inoue's gift to increase either his own raw power, that of his Espada or even make more of the bastards. (5)

We barely won without the madmen springing up any additional surprises on us.

There was nothing either brave, honorable or sweet in my going there. It was a damn suicide mission, though doing anything but would have seen me dead for sure when Aizen had used Inoue's power for his benefit. It's good that he was already mad by that time and too sure of his own immortality to care. It would have been better if I knew that at the time so I wouldn't have to risk my life.

The point of this short rant is simple. I'm anything but a hero. I haven't been one ever since as a little boy I saw my mother being killed by a monster trying to protect me.

She was a hero. Died as one and by doing so, left us.

Oh, it took me years to rationalize her death and reach that conclusion. Though by my next contact with the world of the Shinigami, and no my neither my father, nor me seeing ghosts counts, I have made a certain decision.

Fuck bravery. It only gets you killed, leaving your family alone. It is much better to be alive and their for them. That said, it would be even better that they don't even suspect that you're a coward, because that would disappoint them.

Naturally, there are a few exceptions that are common sense. I reached that particular conclusion when I was eight or nine. I was going back from school when a bunch of older kids cornered me.

They had an issue with my orange hair, something that I inherited from mum. They naturally thought that I was coloring it to be different and didn't like that. At all. Even then, I had more sense than a lot of Shinigami and did the only smart thing.

I ran like hell.

It was unfortunate that they were as fast or faster than me. It took them some time, before someone tackled me from behind. I was already panting and out of breath, though that didn't stop them from kicking out the shit out of me. At least I did get a good hit or two thanks to the karate lessons I used to go on. Needless to say, that wasn't particularly useful if you're surrounded by a bunch of older and stronger kids.

I ended at one of Dad's hospital beds and with my little sister terrified for me. However, that incident was very useful. It made me learn and take to hear a few important truths.

You simply couldn't run away from every danger. Doing so would simply meant that you would be tired if, when it caught up to you. Sometimes, no matter how afraid you were, it was better to face danger, because simply running would be worse when it caught up to you. (6) Seeing my sisters cry over my bandaged form, made me make a promise for myself. I would do my best so they won't see me in such a state ever again. Trying to keep it, while keeping them safe from the Spirit world, lets just say that it was an interesting experience.

I think I went off topic here, though my rambling has something to do with it. The reason I started writing this journal in the first place, though I hope it won't really see the light of day while I'm living, is simple. I want to tell my side of the story, which accidentally doesn't have much in common with how everyone seems to perceive the events. I said that I got here largely because of a lot of misunderstandings for a reason. That has been true ever since I met the first Shinigami that introduced herself as such, Kuchiki Rukia.

I was fifteen at the time. I think. Or was it sixteen?

=RH=

It was just an ordinary after school afternoon. On the way home I took a short detour to see a ghost (7) I hanged out for a bit for the last week or so. She was a sweet little girl, my sisters age. While she looked disturbingly like an older, longer haired Karin, her personality was similar to that of Yuzu. Some imbecile had hit her as she was properly crossing the street on a green light and then ran away the bastard.

The kid had found herself back here a short time later, looking confused about the whole mess. Feeling sorry for her, I hanged out with her for a bit every day after school I even brought her flowers, something that brightened her day. I just placed new ones in the jar I used to keep them fresh and turned to say her goodbye, when a bunch of idiots passed by. A pair of skaters and two of their friends. One of the former, driving without a care in the world, bumped the glass bottle I used to keep the flowers fresh. Deliberately too, he was looking forward and unless he was blind or something, there was no way he managed to miss them.

That was all it took for the ghost girl to start crying.

I narrowed my eyes at the idiots and glared at them. Now that I paid attention, I recognized their kind. They were no different than the bastards that were attempting to make my life hell ever since I was a little kid, just because I had an orange hair. I scowled at them. After the first time I was beaten senseless by a bunch of bastards, I made a choice. While I was afraid by a repeat performance, it was made clear that just running away wasn't the answer.

They did catch me after all.

That put me in a bind. I was a scared kid, who had just received a rather painful lesson that simply running away wasn't always the answer. I had to find another way.

A few weeks later, when I was cornered again, this time by a pair of kids my age, I had an opportunity to do so. The last time I tried to run. This time I fought… and won, promptly arriving home with just a couple of bruises. It hurt, it was damn scary, but I was much better than the last time.

That was important, you see. Now I knew that in certain cases simply running away no matter how much I wanted, wasn't the correct answer, even if it would be my hones to go response in most dangerous situations. When the next day I met again the pair I beat up the previous night and they simply ran away when seeing me, that made me take a rather different path I might have otherwise taken.

In the following years I build up a reputation. Getting away from groups that were too big to handle, kicking the assess of everyone else that had an issue with me… Eventually I met Chad and when we were together, none of the local idiots and gang members could stand against us.

In hindsight, I had a rather warped view of the world at the time, one which to an extent still colors my decisions even now. (8) All I'll say about that is if I knew better, I would have been dealing with the most powerful Shinigami in a rather different matter. Then again, perhaps not. I was a teen at the time, which explains a lot.

Perhaps I shouldn't have started writing this journal tonight. All the fireworks and cheering outside my office is getting on my nerves. While I do feel a relief that this war is over an I managed to survive it reasonable intact, that's not really a reason to party given what was lost.

Now back to the past. Actually writing this helps me forger what happened lately.

So I was on that street corner, glaring at the quartet of rude teens.

"The hell did you think you were doing?!" I growled at the idiot that ran over the flowers.

Four identical glares pointed at my hair were all the answer I got. (9) My rational instinct to get the hell away and keep myself out of trouble flared up, before I squished it down again. It took me years to build up a reputation around my hometown that ensured that random idiots like these three won't try messing up with me. It often did the trick by itself lately with me needing to only occasionally beat up people. Which was great in itself, making it less likely that I go over my head and get my ass handled to myself.

This bunch obviously missed the memo. They weren't people I had to deal with in the past anyway, so that may be the reason why, not that it mattered. The skater who started the whole mess was closest to me, too busy glaring to consider me a threat. My scowl deepened and I decked the idiot, sending him stumbling between two of his buddies, before falling to the ground. Their apparent leader bristled at that and took a threatening step my way.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Treating one of my boys that way?!"

Gee. The way he was talking about was as if they were minions or something. Huh. Were these another bunch of gangsters? I thought that all of them in Karakura knew better by now. That was perhaps something I should look into. I really hated being blindsided. It often ended with dad having to treat me in the Clinic while a lot of idiots found their way in the hospital.

I answered the leader with a kick that connected with his chin and threw him back. All this time I was doing my best to look rather bored and irritated. There was nothing like showing people that they weren't any threat to you to make them think twice or attack in anger. In both cases I had the advantage.

When you knock out their leader with a single kick, they tend to assume the former.

So far so good. I increased the intensity of my scowl and pointed at the skater I decked earlier.

"You, the fool in the middle. What is wrong with this picture?!" I growled while pointing at the glass bottle.

A few moments later, they hastily apologized to ghost girl and dragged their leader away. I promised her to visit tomorrow evening and went home.

That would be my last happily clueless night.

 **=RH=**

 **Next Afternoon,**

 **Karakura Town**

My first clue that something might be off was when arrived at the corner where the ghost girl was. Well, that was no longer the case. The corner was deserted, no sight of pedestrians or cars. No Ghost Girl either.

I actually considered that she had found a way to pass on and returned to one of the nearby main streets which lead towards home, minimizing the chance of getting into trouble. I've seldom wondered things would have gone differently if I went out to search for the girl and missing the first time I saw Rukia in action. Considering that while searching for another Hollow she ended in my bedroom that evening I would have to say no. (10)

I don't think that anyone would be surprised to learn that my desire to stay safe was unanswered. I was just around the corner when I heard a crashing sound. First I though that it was a car crash. Considering the hell that the old man would have heaped upon me if I was in the area and didn't go to check up for wounded, I headed that way. The Goat Chin was insufferable as it was, there was no need to give him actual reasons for being on my case.

That's how I walked into what appeared to be an explosion. Now, if it years later with terrorism across the world spiking up, I would have promptly turned around and gotten the hell away, you couldn't be sure if there wasn't another bomber of "gifts" left for the first responders as I saw it happen more than a few times on the news. What I thought actually happen was that the crash was followed by something exploding, which guaranteed the presence of wounded. No way I was running away now. Getting blown up would have been better than facing dad after leaving casualties behind without even checking. (11)

When the dust of the explosion started settling, I was frozen in my tacks. There wasn't a terrible accident complete with wounding and dying people.

Nope. It was worse. I could see the upper half of insectoid monster towering over the street lights.

"RUN!" Ghost Girl appeared from the dust and sprinted pass me.

Let me tell you, if it wasn't for her I would have stood there, frozen up and gotten myself eaten. Her shout kicked my flight reflex in a high gear and I dashed after her, running as fast as my legs could take me.

I had no intention of stopping until I was far, far away from this madness.

"What the hell is this?" I shouted at the girl while gaining on her. It was chasing her, after all.

"I don't know!" She squeaked with fright.

Then she stumbled and fell down.

For a moment I considered leaving her behind, better her than me you know? Being nice is all good, but when there are giant monsters out to eat people, it's every bloke for himself. Then it occurred to me if she had the same worldview, she wouldn't have shouted me to follow so I dismissed that idea. The kid deserved better because she didn't leave me behind as a bite like I just considered doing, when all she had to do was run past me. (12)

So I did the dumb thing and paused to pull her up. By then the monster was almost upon us, which meant that it might have caught up anyway. Unless I went on alone, saving my skin. All I could do at that moment was to mentally curse myself for trying to be nice. It only meant that we both were going to get eaten.

If anyone is wondering why I wasn't screaming my head out or cursing at my impending death, that's simple – I was mute with fear at the time.

Something black flew in front of my eyes and I kissed my existence goodbye, before it dawned to me that it was a rather large, black butterfly instead of a clawed appendage hell bent on gutting me.

Then I saw her for a first time. A slim, lithe figure wearing an old fashioned black kimono. She simply appeared in thin air and slashed the masked face of the monster with a sword of all things. It stumbled backwards, giving an eldrich roar of mixed pain and rage. I numbly noted the spray of all too human looking blood spraying from the corners of its mouth where the first strike had landed instead of higher up on the face as I thought. The girl landed lightly on her feet before us before making an impossible jump to reach the demon given flesh once again. A vertical flash followed and the monster's mask parted, followed by the rest of its head and its torso.

It managed to roar once again before simply dissolving in thin air.

I blinked a few times, not believing my eyes. Ghosts were one thing, but this?!

By the time I could think straight again, both the stranger in black and Ghost Girl were missing. Only a few debris strewn here and there betrayed that anything at all had happened.

 **=RH=**

 ** _1\. The first time Ichigo was offered a formal place in one of the Twelve was mere few weeks after Aizen's betrayal. He summary refused to even entertain the thought._**

 ** _2\. Yep, you read correct. Ichigo is one of the few know sane Shinigami who have successfully merged with a Hollow they're unfortunate enough to have as a part of their souls. The former Exiles are similar, though their… passengers were implanted instead of being more or less naturally occurring._**

 ** _3\. I can't say that I disagree. Mostly. At the time a lot of my colleagues were strange, getting more eccentric the higher up on the chain of command they were. Huh… Now that I think about it, the situation hasn't really changed much._**

 ** _4\. He is correct. If something happened with Seireitei, the World of the Living would be affected soon enough and it wouldn't be pretty. As far as the Hell Accidents as they are widely known, that was an utter mess…_**

 ** _5\. Once I figured out what Inuoe could really do, I was disturbed, I freely admit it. If either the Captain-Commander or Central 46 knew, they would have ordered her death or capture for study._**

 ** _6\. I know, this is not something I would have agreed at the time. A lot of Shinigami would find it strange, especially those from the Eleventh. Now, after fighting in two wars, I can only say that there are times and places to fight and such in which it's more prudent to pull back so you can face the enemy another day._**

 ** _7\. Even since his mother was killed by a Hollow, Ichigo has been able to see Souls. That should tell you something about the amount of Reiatsu he got even at that age._**

 ** _8\. Those of us who saw Ichigo interact with the Captains and later the Captain-General could attest to that. Most sane or well adjusted people don't interact with such powerful beings the way he did. Or sane for that matter._**

 ** _9\. It took me some time to figure out that Ichigo was rather self conscious as far as his hair color goes. Undoubtedly, that's a consequences of all the fights he had been in thanks to people in the living world having a problem with it._**

 ** _10\. He's correct. I never really noticed him during hunting another Hollow earlier that day, though I did perform Konso on a female Soul matching his description soon after dealing with the target. By simply heading back home, he would have done nothing to prevent me from stumbling into his house in my search. It's not like I went there looking for the idiot._**

 ** _11\. Knowing his father both as Kurosaki Issin who I thought human at the time, much latter as a former and then reinstated Captain, I can say for sure that Ichigo isn't overreacting. Further, that's a rather plausible course of events he had constructed in his head, which is a stark contrast with the loud dullard he appeared to be when we first met._**

 ** _12\. I'm rather torn by this passage. There are a lot of similar situations in Ichigo's journals, where he does think about leaving someone behind or not saving them because its too dangerous for him. On one hand, in a lot of situations that is understandable. I think while we all were dealing with him in the beginning, we all overlooked his actual age. We Shinigami could look like a pre-higschool kid and have over a hundred years of experience in the military. Ichigo was as young as he looked. So is it that surprising that he often considered doing what's best for him? On the other hand he did a lot of heroic things, no matter his intention when going in a certain situation. That said, I don't think that it will be easy for many people to read these journals, because there are instances in which he did consider either abandoning, not helping or outright sacrificing people who have been considering him a friend for a long time now._**

 **Captain Kuchiki Rukia**


	18. Twilight Prologue HP Story

Another plot bunny. This one is about an Albus Dumbledore who was a quite different much darker man in his youth, before turning against Grindelwald. A man who has been seeking redemption for the next half a century, refusing to kill and believing that everyone deserves a second chance, just as he made one for himself though he didn't deserve it.

However, after the Chamber of Secrets, Dumbledore simply could no longer delude himself...

 ** **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling and the various publishers. This story is written with no commercial aims. I do not make any money from it.****

 **Twilight**

 **=TW=**

 **Prologue**

Spell-fire. It was almost beautiful.

Crimson, azure, emerald as well as sickly yellow shattered the twilight.

Albus smiled sadly as he barely avoided a long ribbon of purple energy, which effortlessly shattered the stone fence behind him. He retaliated with a blinding fast series of curses, each of them harmlessly splashing over his opponent's shield.

"You should have joined me, Albus. We could have brought order upon this world!" Grindelwald screamed in desperation.

A sharp slash with the wand, sent Dumbledore's former lover in a desperate roll as a silver lance of pure magic sliced through his shield as if it wasn't there.

"I was tempted, Gellert. Oh so temped." The sad smile never left Dumbledore's face. He twirled his wand and a bunch of rubble transformed into small metal birds, which he banished at his friend.

The current Dark Lord made a halting motion and the transfigured projectiles evaporated a meter away from his outstretched hand.

"Then why don't you?! With you at my side we can change the world!"

"That's what I'm afraid of. You're treading a path I can't follow, Gellert. For if I do, this world we'll make will be terrible to behold."

Albus blazed with arcane energies as he finally unleashed every last drop of his magic, making it available to the Elder Wand. Dumbledore became a blur obscured by his aura as he started casting some of the darkest curses he knew.

Gellert shielded the first few, ducked and rolled to avoid the next, while his wand was busy sending his own attacks.

Albus simply sidestepped most of the spells coming his way and wandlessly shielded the few which would have found their mark. Before he could slam a flesh eating curse home, Gellert apparated away. Acting on instinct, Dumbledore rolled forward a split second before a whip of fire slashed through his former position. He conjured a steel shield that immediately shattered under the impact of the Killing Curse.

Albus jumped on his feet and faced his friend once again. This time Gellert had unleashed the full scope of his power, a Dark, inviting aura swirling around him like a cloak picked up by a gentle breeze.

For an instant, they simply stared at each other, but then, as if under unseen signal, they exploded in motion.

The very air itself became thick with magic as dozens of curses flew between the wizards, then caught ablaze as the spell exchange escalated even further. The ground glassed from the residual energy of blocked spell-fire, then shattered from near misses, before the debris could be scorched once again.

Dumbledore staggered as a ruby red lance smashed his shields to pieces. He dropped to his knees as a long ribbon of a cutting curse flashed millimeters over the crow of his head. Albus retaliated with a bone breaker, followed by a blasting curse and lighting fast Bloodspiller.

Gellert shielded the first and jumped out of the way of the next, though the final attack connected with his left thigh. Grindelwald managed to counter the curse in a split second, but that was more than enough. Dumbledore's next two attacks slammed into him, smashing through a hastily conjured shield. The Dark Lord was thrown back, the sheer blunt force of the last attack snapping the ribs on his left side as if they were twigs.

Geller spat a mouthful of blood and groaned as he felt bits of shattered bone spearing through his lung and pocking, tearing at his heart. He managed to cast a fast mending charm and tried to once again aparate within the confines of the wards surrounding the battlefield, but before he could muster the necessary concentration a long, silver spike caught him in the side, nailing him to the ground.

Only the extensive empowering rituals he had gone through were keeping him alive at that point.

A disarming spell later, he was staring at Albus, who was towering over his broken form. "I'm sorry it came to this, Gellert." Dumbledore muttered, while he was pointing his wand between the eyes of his former lover.

"Pity." The dying Dark Lord coughed a globe of steaming blood. "Me too. It wasn't supposed to be like this..."

"No. It sounded great when we discussed our plans all those years ago, didn't it?" Dumbledore's smile became even sadder. "How many more people should have died for our hubris, Gellert? For all our power, we aren't gods."

"Gods?… no…" Grindelwald rasped. "Our world… change… only us..." Gellert started chocking on his own blood.

"Perhaps. After all I helped you do, after all I did… Do you honestly believe we would have changed the world for the better after spilling rivers of blood? After all the horrors we're responsible for?" Albus shook his head in denial. "No. I could no longer follow this path, no matter how much a part of me wishes I could. Rest in peace, my love. Reducio."

 **=TW=**

Albus stood up in his bed with a pained gasp.

Its been some time since he had that particular nightmare. Dreaming of that particular battle has been rare since the end of the last war.

Then again, at that time his nightmares were of his fresher failures… Like James, Lily, Harry and all the others he failed to protect.

Not because he lacked the power to do so, but because he was afraid to use it. After what the muggles called the Second World War, he had been tainted by all the horrors he perpetuated under the sway of Gellert. It took him an accident visit to a Concentration camp in Poland to finally admit to himself that he had become a monster, serving a terrible cause.

The worst thing was that even then, after seeing men, women and children slaughtered as if they were less than a cattle, there was that dark part of him which sneered, thinking that the muggles deserved everything they've got after what happened to his little sister.

Yet… Fortunately for both worlds, there had been a small piece of conscience that remained within his heart.

It took him a week of fighting with his own darkness before Albus finally decided that he had have enough and turned on his former comrades. He cast off his mask and hunted down Gellert's knights until their fateful confrontation in Bavaria.

Albus spent the next fifty years seeking redemption by fighting for and promoting the cause of the Light.

He threw away his covers and slowly headed for the loo.

It was all for nothing. The Dark was gaining strength once again. While Tom had been gone for more than a decade, his supporters were becoming more powerful.

And Albus… He was continuing to fail again and again.

Especially young Harry, who just yesterday had to fight a Basilisk in this very castle.

Dumbledore went to the sink and splashed cold water all over his bearded face. He stared in his reflection in the mirror.

Instead of his faces, he saw the devastation of a continent turned into one giant battlefield.

It was going to happen again if Tom regained a body.

Albus blinked at the mirror. While it was showing his own tired face, he saw the reflections of people who he failed during the last war. People who had trusted him with their very lives, with their families… and they died because he simply couldn't force himself to really wage war no matter the despicable acts of Tom's followers.

He returned to his bed to find Fawkes waiting for him and trilling mournfully.

"How did I let it happen, old friend? Even when I tried to be the Leader of the Light, I let thousands die by my inaction, by my fear."

Albus chuckled darkly. "Second chances… Just as I got one..." He spat the last sentence, while his heart was torn apart by self-loathing.

The Phoenix chirped and gave him a flat look.

"I've often wondered what did you find in me, friend? I'm nothing but a monster. When I act, people die by my hands. When I don't, by my inaction..."

Fawkes trilled angry and flew to Dumbledore's shoulder, before cuffing the back of his head with a wing and glaring.

"What? It's the truth."

Disgruntled chirp.

"You know it."

Affirmative chirp and another cuff followed.

Dumbledore's thoughts drifted to the events of yesterday. Lucius Malfoy had brought a Dark Artifact in his school, almost killing multiple students and wost of all, nearly bringing Tom back.

Yet, Albus could prove nothing. The murderous bastard had gotten Scot free, with only Harry's quick thinking costing the Death Eater his House Elf.

It was pathetic! Albus couldn't even protect the students in his own school.

Yet another cuff, this time delivered by a flaming wing. An angry tirade of chirps and trills followed.

"Yes. I'm afraid. I was barely able to walk away from the Dark last time. I know how weak I am." Dumbledore admitted sadly. "I fear that I wont be able to do it again."

Fawkes screeched at his companion and dug his talons in his shoulder.

"Ow."

"Perhaps you're right."

Chirp! Fawkes glared. Chirp! Chirp!

"No, I'm not letting Harry get hurt again if it is in my power!"

Chirp?! Fawkes cuffed him another time.

"You're right." Dumbledore sighed.

Chirp.

"Yes, of course you're."

Albus took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He plunged deep within himself, until he reached his magical core. His mental fingers caressed the bindings he had placed upon himself, which were keeping a part of his very being sealed off.

After killing Gellert, he had made a vow to himself. That he would seek redemption and never again let the darkness within himself loose.

Then he made sure of it by binding the part of himself that contained his great affinity to the dark arts.

The world never knew who Albus Dumbledore really was in his youth. They knew him only as the Leader of the Light, the man who saved them instead as one of the faceless monsters that helped bring Europe to her knees.

His fingers gripped the first binding and he closed his mental eyes too.

Second chances. The policy to only stun Death Eaters and do ones best to bring them alive…

His leadership had cost countless innocent lives, because he was terrified to wage another war.

Albus tore the binding with a hiss, as pain speared through his core. Then he grabbed the next one.

An image of Harry in the hospital bed after the boy faced Voldemort last year flashed through Dumbledore's mind.

The binding dissolved in his grip as he thought of the terrible way he had endangered the boy he considered his own grandson.

Albus knew all the excuses he had been telling himself. The why's of treating Harry that way.

They were all lies, meant to placate himself, to assure his own fears.

Another bindings snapped as Dark Magic surged within his core.

"Fawkes, when did I become a coward planning to let children fight my battles? Fix my mistakes?" Albus asked his familiar.

Chirp!


	19. A battleship in the bay WormUber fusion

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Uber – they belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I don't make any money from this story. It's not for sale or rent.**

 **A battleship in the bay**

 **Prologue: Welcome to the future**

 **=BB=**

 **Part 1: A ripple in the pond**

 _Voice 1(VO1): Your first deployment. It wasn't tactically or strategically sound._

 _Voice 2(VO2): True. Ideally we needed a few more months to find, activate and train more Ubers._

 _VO1: Why then? While cleaning up Brockton Bay did make sense, it wasn't a good target for a single mission. It lost us the element of surprise._

 _VO2: Again, true and very much irrelevant. The first BB deployment was inevitable._

 _VO1: How so? You were in charge of the project?_

 _VO2: The Merchants killed Claudia's husband and daughter._

 _VO1: It's understandable. Her anger that is – not the mission you authorized._

 _VO2: She wanted to go… and we didn't have another active battleship at that time. We couldn't call heroes against her either – it would have been a slaughter if she decided to go anyway. Besides, most of us lost someone to villains who got away with a slap on the wrist. Our program was meant to change that. We had either a disaster on our hands or opportunity. I chose the latter._

 _VO1: The fallout nearly tore the country apart. It still might._

 _VO2: What did you expect? Our purpose was to reign in the parahuman by any means. We did so._

 _VO1: That remains to be seen._

 **=BB=**

 **08.12.2010**

 **Docks**

 **Brockton Bay**

"Tempest one, Overlord. We have eyes on the targets." A genderless modulated voice spoke from Major Claudia Pierce's earpiece. "You have green light."

"Affirmative." She sub-vocalized. "All Tempest Elements, Tempest One. The package has arrived. We'll service it now."

Claudia smiled for the first time in the last four months. She looked down at her body, which was almost three times larger than she was before… and she had never been a small woman. The first American Battleship class posthuman barely fit in the back of the gray van – one of a pair that contained her strike team.

"Tempest Two confirms. We're on overwatch and awaiting orders." That was her XO and team's sniper – lieutenant Clark West. While he was a Tank-man and deadly enough thanks to that, tonight his role was that of a backup – he wasn't to engage with his powers unless something went terribly wrong. Instead, Tempest Two had a high-powered tinker-tech sniper to play with.

West had a spotter too – a "Longbow" - a tank-man who had two Halo activations.

The rest six members of the team were already moving to surround the warehouse containing their targets, so they could ensure that no one was going to escape.

"Tempest Four, we're in position."

"Tempest Five, on station."

"Tempest Eight, ready."

"Tempest One to all elements. I'm going in." Claudia all but purred in her comm.

Finally it was time. She opened the back doors of the van – very carefully at that to avoid damaging them by accident – and stepped out with agility belittling her huge form. Claudia glanced down at herself – she was carrying a black body-fitting suit made of expensive tinker tech material. The thin armor was supposed to increase even her durability, at least some more exotic attacks.

Claudia gently patted the SAW slung over her back – the light machine gun was just in case, she didn't anticipate needing it tonight. After all, very few things could withstand her Halo and none of those could be found in Brockton Bay.

The battleship calmly walked towards her target, while keeping to the shadows. Thanks to West, she was well aware where the outside guards were – just a pair of junkies standing near the main entrance. Fortunately for them, Claudia didn't need to use it. Instead she walked towards the side wall of the warehouse and smirked. It was solidly built – brick instead of the more flimsy and cheaper materials often used in construction.

It didn't matter. It wouldn't even if the wall was made of solid tank armor.

"Tempest Two, Tempest One. I'm engaging. Take out the guards.

"Willco." West whispered.

Claudia activated her deadliest power and her head was surrounded by a bright blue lights. At the same moment, West put a subsonic HEAP round in the head of the first guard, which blew up like a watermelon struck by a sledgehammer. Before the second junky could react, Claudia shredded the wall and walked inside. A moment later, another Merchant lost his head.

Claudia smiled when she saw the interior. They were here – Skidmark ans Squealer. The Merchant Capes were leaning over a row of opened barrels and examining their contents when the battleship burst in. They had twenty or so henchmen armed with various small arms – nothing that Claudia would feel, much less hurt her.

"What da fuck? Who da fuck are ya, shitstain?" Skidmark was as eloquent as ever.

Before he could react, Claudia smiled and unleashed her halo in a carefully controlled manner. She could have killed the bastard with a thought, but that was far too good for the scum. Skidmark screamed as his flesh boiled and twisted as if it was made of burning wax. In a heartbeat, the leader of the Merchants was converted into a grotesque figure that barely resembled a human any more… and he was still alive – screaming.

Squealer was lucky. She drew a tinker-tech gun, while shouting obscenities. Claudia acted on reflex and simply disintegrate the younger woman's torso.

That brought the ordinary gang-bangers out of their stupor. The smarter of them threw down their weapons and tired to run. The rest, drew guns – mostly pistols and the odd SMG – and opened fire. Most of the fire was inaccurate – just spray and pray that hit anything but the huge woman who observed the gunmen with an air of professional disgust. Merely couple of dozen bullets – at best – struck her huge figure. The couple that hit her face deformed under the impact and fell harmlessly to the ground.

Claudia barely felt the gentle taps of the 9mm AP rounds.

Her halo flashed again and the interior of the warehouse was rent asunder. The gunmen who stood their ground became twisted ruins, who were all mercifully dead.

"Tempest One, Tempest Eight. Three tangos neutralized."

"Tempest One, Tempest Four. Four enemies down."

"Tempest One, Tempest Five. Two down."

"Good job. Exfill. I'll be along shortly." Claudia ordered and walked over to Skidmark. She reached down and picked up the pathetic little man, then looked him in the single remaining eye.

Claudia stared at her handiwork for a long moment. Her halo flashed and she let the headless corpse fall to the ground.

"Overlord, Tempest One. The Package is serviced. We're going home."

"Tempest One, Overlord. Good work."

By the time the local Protectorate and PRT arrived, there was no sight of who slaughtered twenty five people in such a way that would have made the Slaughterhouse Nine proud.

 **=BB=**

 **Part 2: How it all began**

 **11.04.2008**

 **Blackwatch HQ**

 **Location classified**

"Those are bold claims." General Jonathan Meinard mussed aloud. He was holding a heavy metal binder filled with sheets of paper that went beyond secret. The short former armor officer was the current Chairman of the Joint Chiefs – a prestigious title, one that meant much more a few decades ago when the United States armed forces were still relevant.

That was a long time ago - before Scion arrived and heralded a new age. Before the Endbringers started rampaging.

"If I saw this when I was younger, I would have called you a madman, Colonel Vandenberg."

The only other man in the room shrugged. He was a tall and athletic pale man with a crop of receding short black hair. His hawkish features made him appear gaunt, even if his forest green uniform was nicely filled up by his muscled frame.

"Well, all of our research is based on the work of a Nazi general who everyone thought to be a madman."

"Sankt. That doesn't win you any points." Meinard sighed. "What about the subject?"

"Well, he's the main reason why we didn't disregard this whole idea as another useless wunderwaffen." Vandenberg shrugged. "He was found three months ago in Sweden – within a secret chamber bellow abandoned Nazi facility that had been left to rot ever since the war ended."

"He's still alive then?"

"Indeed. He's actually four levels below us. We tried running various scans using normal and tinker-tech medical equipment. The results are more than promising."

"That man is the only success that Sankt had and yet, he's been sleeping for more than sixty years."

"True enough. Yet… the subject haven't been fully activated yet – that may be the cause. Despite that, he's already a high level brute. We estimate that only a direct hit from AT weapon or equivalent blaster strike can harm him. Even if the only thing we get from this project is soldiers as durable as him, it will be a net win. However, the notes we recovered and decrypted show much higher potential. Unfortunately they aren't complete."

"You want additional financing and _test_ subjects." Meinard snapped.

"The piece of the puzzle showing how to acquire viable candidates is among the missing parts. By the time Sankt devised a viable test, the war was over and we did lose almost all of his research."

"Even after New York, I don't believe that human testing will be approved."

"We need to get a single unactivated viable candidate – that should be enough to create a test."

"One in about five thousand or so." Meinard glared at the colonel.

"Small price to pay in today's world. More people die daily in the US thanks to cape related 'accidents'." Vandenberg looked unconcerned.

"I'll bring it to the rest of the Joint Chiefs and the President."

"Good. We'll continue testing the subject."

"What about activating him?"

"While that's our best way to awake him, we simply don't know enough about him. For all we know, he could be a fanatical Nazi and we have enough of those fools running around as it is."

 **=BB=**

 **15.12.2008**

 **Blackwatch HQ**

 **Location classified**

Since the meeting with General Meinard, Colonel Vandenberg had to concentrate on projects that had nothing to do with Woden's Blood. The subject continued to be unresponsive in one of the underground labs and while the substance that was the heart of the Achilles project could be easily and simply synthesized, there simply weren't candidates for human testing. Simply adding Woden's Blood to a blood sample was useless – some kind of catalyst was needed for the test. Unfortunately, months of blind experiments had revealed nothing.

That left Vandenberg dealing with much more boring prospects for enhancing US soldiers. While there was great potential in both cyber and genetic upgrades – the mere fact that they were unviable without thinker tech, was troubling. There actually was a short platoon of US special forces who were practically cyborgs, however they were high maintenance and not something that could be practically replicated. The fact that most relevant parahumans could take them out reasonably easy didn't help matters.

What America needed was for the rank and file – both soldiers and law enforcements to be enhanced to the point they could effectively police most parahumans and that was a long, long way off.

The colonel sighed as he opened another folder containing expense reports on the ongoing projects. He was stuck in his office in one of the upper levels of the Blackwatch HQ, dealing with almost useless paperwork. Unless the boffins made a breakthrough or a someone friendly triggered with really useful tinker power, Vandenberg simply couldn't show any useful progress. He leaned back in his rather comfortable chair and looked over his bland office – the usual things you could see into an officer's place of work simply missed from his. The utter secrecy of the facility and the people who worked inside was to blame. There were no personal effects in the office – just a desk, a pair of visitors chairs, his seat, a computer and two rolls of armored and tamper proof document lockers.

A phone too – a large, old fashioned land-line. At least it was reasonable secure. And it was ringing.

"Colonel Vandenberg." The officer spoke calmly after he picked up the phone.

"It's Meinard. You have green light. Test subjects will be shipped to your location after January fifth."

"I understand. We'll be ready." Vandenberg answered and smiled when the line was cut off from the other side. He pressed a button on the phone and called his adjutant – she was indispensable in running the damn place.

The Colonel allowed himself a small smile. He was sure that Woden's Blood would be a game-changer for his country and with a bit of luck – for the world too.


	20. The Reapers of Earth Bet Prologue V2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm or Bleach, they belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **The Reapers of Earth Bet**

 **Prologue: Rebirth**

 **=TREB=**

 **Rebirth 1.1**

 **22:05 PM, January 3 2011**

 **Locker room**

 **Winslow School**

 **Brockton Bay**

 **Earth Bet**

I stepped through the Heaven's gate and my feet landed on platforms made by spiritual particles. My senses extended once I was back in the world of the living and I only sensed only ordinary humans nearby. There were no spirits in my detection range, Hollow or mere plus souls – that was a relief.

I was in no condition to fight a new born kitten, much less something that could actually hurt me.

The dimensional portal sealed behind me plunging me into darkness.

 _"So that's how it ends."_ My Zanpakuto mussed. Her throaty voice warmed my stuttering heart.

My lips twitched in a sad smile. "We had a great run, my friend."

 _"All for a woman you don't even love."_

"That?" I smirked. "You know better." I found the door locking me into a storage room and simply crushed its lock before letting myself out. Even helpless as I was, my waning strength still surpassed that of an ordinary mortal.

 _"Do I? You are the one I want. The one I want to protect. Yet I no longer can."_

"Nonsense. You can't protect me from myself. It's done. The war is over."

 _"And we are dying."_

"I am. You might yet find another wielder." I let out a pulse of Reiatsu that helped me locate the single familiar soul in the building - it was quite easy really – I could simply feel it gently leaking spiritual power so similar to that of my captain.

 _"It's unlikely. Even if it's her daughter."_

"Perhaps. It won't be long now." I muttered. My left hand closed around the second Zanpakuto I was carrying. It quietly pulsed with the soothing Reiatsu of my late captain as I walked pass a row of lockers.

Here – the Reiatsu source was literally staring me in the eyes.

I reached a particular locker - one that stank of rot and decay and stopped. I grasped the door and flexed my fingers. The metal screamed in protest as it gave under my unnatural strength and sheared as if it was made of paper. I discarded it and looked within.

A deadly pale girl covered with trash was stuck inside. Her clothes were torn and bloody. She was covered with filth from head to toe. I could barely perceive the smell of infection below all the horrible stench emanating from this improvised, yet effective prison.

I gently picked up the girl and pulled her out, then laid her on the floor.

She was scrawly, fragile looking thing, yet I could see the resemblance between her and my mentor. There was no doubt in my mind - this was Annette's daughter.

 _"So, it's her all right."_ The other half of my soul mussed. _"She doesn't look like much."_

"Neither did I when I became a Soul Reaper."

 _"True enough."_ My Zanpakuto pouted.

"It's time I fulfilled my promise." I smiled sadly. "You know, I never thought that it would end in a place like this."

 _"We should have died in the war, that's true. It did kill us, after all."_

"We are just too stubborn to die just yet." I smirked and looked tenderly at the girl.

 _"Taylor Hebert."_ My Zanpakuto muttered.

"It's time, no matter what you'll decide." I said.

Moths of pale light were detaching from my skin as my body started rapidly dissolving, the Kido keeping me together finally failing in it's task.

 _"What choice my wielder? Where you go I will always follow."_ My partner smiled sadly.

"I made a promise. Both of them deserve better." I sighed. "For what's worth, I'm sorry."

 _"Perhaps. Captain Annette certainly did. I don't know enough about this child to decide. Besides, after everything – dying here and simply ceasing to exist… There certainly is some attraction to the concept. We may finally find a measure of peace."_

"Time's up, old friend. Please."

 _"I told you – I'll be with you to the end."_ She muttered stubbornly.

"Impossible woman." I smiled fondly.

With a single fluid motion, which had become a second nature, I pulled out my sword. The broad, double edged blade gleamed in the darkness.

"May you find her worthy..." I muttered and drew Annette's Zanpakuto. A moment later I plunged the blades in Taylor's heart.

For a moment the night became day. I grinned as I felt what little Spiritual Energy I had left being drained through my Zanpakuto and straight in my former Captain's daughter. Annette's Soul Cutter tingled in my hand and fell apart in a rain of green Reiatsu that softly few upon Taylor before melting in her body.

I closed my eyes and felt at peace.

 **=TREB=**

Taylor awoke with a gasp. She floated in a star filled void, numb to the world. Then something entered her vision. It was vast beyond comprehension. A twisted, entwined worm made by countless swirling prisms traveled the ether.

Behind it, countless sparkling crystals rained in the night. One whirled in the void before streaking straight at her. Taylor knew that she should have felt fear, yet she was too tired for that. Exhausted beyond resistance, beyond caring.

 _ **Destination...**_

A strange, alien mind touched Taylor. The intelligence studied her for a moment that lasted eternity. It probed, prodded. Violated her mind.

 _ **Agreement...**_

She could feel it scraping through her brain; it was preparing to do something. A shard of dazzling crystal sailed towards her head.

 _"Ah. None of that."_ A familiar, soothing voice whispered in her head.

 **Shock... Surprise... Curiosity...**

 _ **Inquiry...**_

" _Nope. You aren't laying your slimy tentacles on her. Bankai!"_

An uncomprehendingly vast ocean of power washed over Taylor. She felt like suffocating under immense pressure, yet at the same time it felt warm and welcoming.

 _ **Confusion... Indignation... Anger...**_

 _ **Defiance!**_

" _None of that!"_ A wave of blinding power slammed into the sparkling shard and blew it away – back in space.

A figure in gleaming plate armor appeared before her. She looked like tall and majestic – like a noble knight from the stories Taylor's mother used to read her when she was a little girl.

" _Taylor, do you wish to live?"_ That maddeningly familiar voice asked gently.

Huh. What an odd question. Did she? Taylor didn't know. She just wanted to be left alone. For the bullying to stop once and for all. Was that too much to ask?!

"Not really." Taylor managed to croak.

She could sense that the figure leaning above her was shocked by that answer. The armored woman – the knight was female all right, frowned under her ornate helmet.

" _I'll have none of that, young lady."_ The voice was gentle, full of love, yet firm and un-yelding.

Just like Taylor mother's used to be when she was both concerned and angry at her.

Huh. Now there was a dazzling sword in the Knight's hand. Where did that come from? Taylor looked at the blade. It was beautiful.

" _One way or another you'll be set free, that much I can promise you. Little owl."_ The woman declared with absolute certainty.

What? Only mum called her that! Who was that woman? How did she know it?!

The sword blazed with power, nearly blinding her. It flashed and Taylor gasped in surprise when the blade sank into her chest.

There was no pain… for a moment that is.

Taylor screamed as white hot wave of energy slammed into her very being and tore it asunder. She could feel a piece breaking, turning into a cloud of sparkling moths. Then something slammed in the jagged hole, before absorbing those particles within itself.

Then she knew no more.

 **=TREB=**

The blazing light vanished as abruptly as it appeared in the first place. It left behind an empty hallway and a dying girl. A few sparks of Spiritual power gently rained upon her still form.

Taylor exhaled for one last time, a content smile appearing on her face.

Lub-lub.

Lub.

Her heart stopped.

And Taylor Hebert died.


	21. The War of the Ancients WH40K I

****AN: This story was inspired by Out of the Dark by Derain Von Harken**** ** **on the space battles forums.****

 ** **Disclaimer: I do not own**** ** **any of the Warhammer 40K games, books, comics of movies**** ** **. They belong to their respective**** ** **creators and/or**** ** **copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial aim. I make no money from it.****

 ** **The war of the Ancients****

 ** **=TWA=****

 ** **Prologue:****

 ** **Armageddon 1.1****

 ** **FoM "Damocles"****

 ** **First fleet flagship****

 ** **High orbit above Earth****

 ** **Sol System****

Deep within the thirty kilometers long, dagger shaped assault ship, one of her most protected compartments was drowning in twilight. Only faint lights thrown by stations meant to oversee and direct Damocles' operations prevented pitch black darkness from claiming the place.

Only two things could be heard within the CIC – quiet whine coming from the life support system which was cycling in cool air and level breathing.

Fleet Admiral James Halcyon stood in front of his seat – which was situated in the very center of the compartment. His eyes were closed and as his mind strode through his flagship's network.

"Scans complete." Solace, the Damocles' AI, whispered in Halcyon's mind. Her usually soothing contralto, sounded flat, emotionless – a clear sign that she had suppressed her emotional centers.

"I can see that." The Admiral muttered.

Earth, the cradle of humanity was dead. The once majestic cities were little more than forests of twisted metal. The deep shelters meant to survive vicious orbital strikes were turned into tombs from relentless bombardment.

The Citadel – the Federation of Man's nerve center, which was buried deep under the Himalaya mountains was silent. Gone. Eleven kilometers of honeycombed mountain chock full with shield emitters, battle steel and every defense weapon known to man had been carved like a Christmas turkey. The whole Himalayan range was simply gone – clawed apart to reach the juicy target below.

The firepower needed to achieve that feat had been more than enough to sterilize Eurasia and Africa. Australia had been buried under tidal waves and orbital strikes like a modern Atlantis. The Americas were seas of slowly cooling magma. Antarctica had been shattered.

The beautiful floating cities James remembered from his youth had been swept from the skies and he could find no remains of them.

There were dozens of them, each containing more than a billion souls and they were simply gone.

Halcyon skimmed through the rest of the report. It was the same everywhere – the only living people in Sol were on board of his ships.

The failure tasted like the ashes of trillions dead. Below him was the once lush jewel in the Federation's crown, humanity's cradle. It was a death world chocked by a brown cloud of smoke and debris which would persist for hundreds of years. Above him was the nearly shattered ruin that was Luna. All around him were the ships of First fleet, which had arrived too late and a large field of debris where Home fleet had fought and died.

Alone.

"Admiral, we just received a message from FleetCom on Eden." Solace stated.

Halcyon sighed. Eden… it was Earth's twin – a carefully re-scluptured world in a star system that was eery similar to Sol. After nearly a thousand years of stellar engineering, the whole star system had been turned into a nearly perfect copy.

So at least Eden was still alive as expected. After all it was thousands of light years coreward from this mass grave and almost in the center of the Federation of Man. While that system was nowhere nearly as well defended as Sol, it could enjoy fast reinforcements from multiple sector fleets.

It was not so for the homeworld. Earth's location – relatively close to a spiral arm's tip made it somewhat isolated. Just a few massive warp storms were enough to slowdown first fleet so they would arrive long after the homeworld had been murdered by the traitorous Iron Men.

"Give me the gist." The Admiral muttered.

"We're ordered to abandon the sector 01. As of a week ago, First fleet is the only combat capable Federation force in the area."

"I see." Halcyon muttered. "Strategic situation?" He dully asked.

"Omega. All federation fleets with the sole exceptions of Fifth at Eden and us are heavily engaged. We've lost contact with multiple sectors and have reports of ground fighting on practically every inhabited world."

So this wasn't the end yet, though he could see it from here.

"Strategic simulation predictions?" The Admiral asked.

"Odds of victory are drifting between thirty seven and forty four percent contingent on situation with sectors out of contact. Odds of the Federation recovering if victorious – between five and seventeen percent contingent on warp storm phenomena. Can't model warp events with higher accuracy while emotional suppression is active." Solace reported calmly. "Do you wish to view the simulations?"

"That won't be necessary." The Admiral muttered. He didn't want to see mankind tearing itself apart in excruciating detail.

A chime sounded through the network.

"Admiral, we received a new message. It requires your codes to decrypt."

James frowned and called the file. It was an innocuous looking bundle with a simple designation – Section 0.

"Solace, go to standby mode and cut all feeds to the bridge on my command. Dump the message in the CIC network then physically isolate it. Alpha-Charlie-Theta-Seven-Zero-Two-Three-Niner-Brabo-Strike-Strike-Strike. Execute."

"Affirmative."

A moment later the network shrunk around Halcyon and become much dimmer, when Solace pulled out. The Admiral ran a check to ensure that the net was indeed secure, then he touched the message. It blazed across his mind and demanded his personal codes – the ones hard-wired into his cortex implants. A mental command later and the requested information was sent. It felt like a cold stream erupted from his mind and drove through the message. It blinked twice, then a third time before it shifted and transformed into a data stream which flowed into his implants before deleting itself from the network.

 _The message contained two parts. The first was one he could freely share – official orders and dossiers on half a dozen Eldar. First fleet was to hunt them down, take their leader alive and interrogate him._

 _The second was a strategic assessment of the situation and a set of contingency orders to be executed depending on the situation._

 _Section 0 apparently agreed with Solace. Barring a miracle, the Federation was going to unravel a few centuries after achieving a victory over the Iron Men… if they could actually win anyway._

 _He had to prepare a fail safe for when, not if, the Federation died. A redoubt that could preserve and eventually restore human civilization._

 _Halcyon skimmed over the contingencies and winced. To say that they were extreme measures was an understatement._

 _That wasn't the first time today that the Admiral was almost glad for the emotional suppressor that was a part of his cortex implant. He was also almost glad about the fact that regulations demanded any flag officer and starship commander have theirs active upon entering a potential battle zone._

 _That was the only reason seeing Sol turned into one vast graveyard didn't break him._

Halcyon exited the CIC network, sat on his chair and pressed a button on the left arm-rest. A burst of codes from his cerebral implants the local network was once again a part of Damocles' larger one. Another command and Solace was back online and fully operational.

"Orders Admiral?" The AI asked.

"As we depart, detach two tenders to Earth, one to Saturn and another to Jupiter." Halcyon sent a highly compressed file from his implants to Solace. "Have them start building this." The Admiral ordered. Don't open it." He added.

"It's done." The AI stated a few laser-comm burst transmissions later.

"Call a conference for my senior fleet and ground forces officers in two hours. In person, Conference room A. You can bring the CIC crew back in as well. General order to the fleet: Remain on station, set condition two and continue patrols." The Admiral ordered and headed for the armored doors separating the CIC from the rest of the ship.

Despite the suppressor's best efforts, Halcyon was shacking with barely restrained fury. He had went on over the official orders and the given reasons as he gave the orders.

Section 0 suspected that an Eldar Cabal was responsible for the Iron uprising. The six dossiers he was sent contained everything the Federation knew about those responsible.

The suppressor sent more chemicals and weak energy impulses in the Admiral's brain, while the man's fury continued to grow.

The Eldar were going to pay, even if it was the last thing he was going to do, Halcyon vowed to himself just as the armored doors opened, revealing the shocked faces of the CIC's crew.


	22. On Butterfly Wings Worm AU Prologue 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm, it belongs to Widbow. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **On butterfly wings**

 **=OBW=**

 **Prologue 1.1**

 **21.01.2010**

 **Berlin**

 **Germany**

"I wondered when would you show up." I smiled sadly.

The woman with the fedora gave me a critical look. I glanced down at the charred ruin that was the right side of my chest. The stench of burned, _melted_ meat and bone – mine, hit me hard. The only saving grace was that either thanks to shock or fried nerves, I barely felt any pain.

As far as I knew, that wasn't a good sign, like at all.

Not that it mattered.

"Talk. Fast." Contessa sighed and lowered the small pistol she had in hand.

Outside, the cape fight continued, punctuated by explosions that were growing fainter and fainter.

"Where should I start? Scion, the Endbringers?"

"The latter."

"Flechette. That's the name I think. A girl, not sure if she's triggered yet. In the US. She can shoot through any defense, any hit things in any dimension. Her shard's power is based on whatever the entities use to kill each other. It should work on Endbringers too." I coughed. It was getting harder and harder to breath. For a moment I though of demanding something for my information, but almost immediately discarded the idea.

I wasn't going to risk this world dying because of selfish reasons and we both knew it.

"Endbringers – in short, Eidolon controls them subconsciously. He wants a challenge, to test himself. Ah. There are twenty odd of the buggers. If you kill one, more will come online, so make the idiot straighten his head or something." My breath was getting more ragged. It was becoming harder to keep my thoughts in order.

"Useful. Scion." She insisted.

Outside the fight was coming closer once again. More and louder explosions accompanied by sporadic gunfire.

"There will be a trigger. January 2011. Brockton Bay. She'll be able to control insects, crabs and such, initially. In the end, when her powers become unbound, she'll be able to control every single cape and that is a way to defeat Scion. Planning around Flechette will be better I think."

"Thank you." Contessa muttered. She had a distant look in her eyes. "I can see..."

A woman's scream outside was cut short by gunfire. A child shrieked something that sounded like "Make it stop!"

Contessa stiffened. She paused and fell to the ground,

Outside the explosions that were escalating suddenly stopped, though the gunfire persisted and sounded that it was coming straight this way.

I started crawling towards the woman and let me tell you, this time I felt like I had a hole in the chest. The sheer pain was much worse than any injury I had the misfortune of suffering up until then. It was so much that it paralyzed me before I could craw more than a meter. I just stayed on the concrete floor, lying on my side and moaning quietly, because I didn't have the strength left to scream my agony.

Then as it turned out, everything I went through it the last two days was for nothing. The door slammed open and a scruffy looking young teen – he couldn't be older than fifteen – rain it the storage space. The kid wore worn out jeans and long green jacket. He also had an armbrand that I could see clearly – it was red, with a white circle and a swastika in the middle.

Great. A fucking neo-nazi.

The kid looked wildly around and stumbled back when he saw us. He raised a hand, revealing a small pistol and pointed it at us.

A sharp shout came from the door – something in German. It was too bad I didn't speak the language, though it was irrelevant. The teen tried to point his gun at the door and got shot for his trouble. His body shook as two, then a third burst struck him and he few on the ground. His hand twitched and he pressed the trigger.

I managed to wrench my head to the side, somehow ignoring the pain for a moment. I saw Contessa on her knees. She looked astounded at the kid.

There was a small hole in her forehead and a tiny stream of blood was slowly leaking down her face.

The last thing I felt was a wave of despair and then all I knew was darkness.

 **=OBW=**

 **21.01.2010**

 **Cauldron HQ**

 **Location classified**

"Can we bring her back?" Alexandria asked.

Doctor Mother gave a critical look to the body lying on her examining table. It was almost intact. In fact, if it wasn't for the face frozen in a surprised expression, it would appear that the deceased woman was simply sleeping. However, the single, tiny gunshot wound just above her right eye told the truth. A single .22 caliber bullet had penetrated her forehead and went on bouncing inside her skull – destroying the brain beyond repair in the process.

"Define back." Came the dispassionate reply. "Making a clone? Sure. I can have it with the same personality even. Bringing back her agent under our control?" Doctor Mother shook her head. "As far as the Number Man and myself were able to determine, whatever happened caused some kind of backslash. The Path of Victory has become dormant and we have no idea when or if it will be in working order again."

"Do so anyway." Alexandria sighed. "She could prove useful." The heroine gave one last look to her dead comrade, shook her head at the pointlessness of it all and left.

It was a good thing that Cauldron had many contingency plans – for this precise occasion too. Unfortunately, none of them were actually good plans.

Alexandria almost laughed. There weren't good plans. Not since she learned the truth. Ever since then it has been a desperate scheme after desperate scheme in a forlorn hope that they could kill something that for most intent and purposes was a god.

Now, their best chance, the one thing that managed to cause the death of something like Scion was out of their grasp… because of a dumb accident. A trigger at the wrong time and place had rendered all nearby Capes powerless in a critical moment, something that unfortunately had ended with Contessa getting shot in the head.

She was on her way to see the Numbers Man, when the whole facility shuddered under her feet and all alarms started blaring at the same time.

Alexandria growled. Of course, something was going to go catastrophically bad without Contessa around to play firefighter. Another shudder, this time accompanied with the sound of subdued explosion shook the base. The prisoners on the lower levels were getting free – at least that was her guess. The heroine cursed and flew towards the nearest elevator.

The breach had to be contained or today was going to go even worse if that was at all possible.


	23. Chapter A Tale of light and dark

**AN: Anakin Skywalker gets some pointers from the Force Ghosts of an ancient Jedi and Sith after he becomes Obi-Wan's apprentice. That leads to a quite different Anakin eventually confronting Mace Windu and Palpatine in the Chancellor's office at what was supposed to be the last days of the Clone Wars.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Wars movies, games, TV series, comics or anything related to the franchise. They belong to their copyright owners and/or creators. This story is not written with profit in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **A Tale of Light and Dark**

 **=ATLD=**

 **Prologue I: Shatterpoint**

 **Chancellor's Office**

 **Coruscant**

Anakin Skywalker was torn. All his training, his three masters, none of that had prepared him for this moment. His eyes darted around the demolished office, refusing to look straight at either Master Windu or the small form of the Chancellor curling away from the purple blade of the older Jedi.

"It has to end now, Anakin! He has control of the Senate! Of the Courts!" Master Windu averted his gaze from Palpatine to look him straight in the eyes.

"I can save her, Anakin." A tired, exhausted whisper came from the Chancellor's burned lips. "I can save Padme." The old man pleaded.

Anakin looked at the small, deformed figure that was Palpatine and winced.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what was right or wrong anymore.

A soft hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. Skywalker's head snapped up and he looked at the newcomer. An ethereal shimmering figure that one could easily mistake for hologram was standing behind him. It was a middle-aged man with short black beard similar to Obi-Wan's. The similarity went further – the man wore brown Jedi robes over a heavy armor that had superficial resemblance to what the Clones and their generals were equipped with. Even the emblem the newcomer had on his shoulders and chest was similar even if much, much older than the modern symbol of the Republic. It was the sigill of the old republic, complete with the sword in it's center.

Anakin sighed in relief as he felt one of his masters through the Force, confirming that this wasn't some kind of trick. A moment later, another figure materialized on his other side. This one was a head taller and wore black from head to toe; a long black cape that snapped behind him from un-existing winds, sinister armor, a pair of yellow eyes sparkling with mischief.

Both Sidious and Windu froze as they stared at Anakin with confusion. They could sense the Force coiling around him, gathering as if holding its breath.

"We're here at last." The man in black chuckled.

"All you've been through, all your training - it all led up to this point." The ancient Jedi added.

Anakin narrowed his eyes. "You knew. Both of you. Was it all some kind of a sick game?!" Skywalker snapped at his two oldest teachers.

"You can look at it that way." That maddening smirk never left the Sith's face.

"A game? It depends on your point of view." The Jedi interjected.

"According to you, everything depends on my point of view!" Anakin glared.

"Yes." The old Jedi smiled.

"All you've both taught me…" Skywalker shook his head. He remembered their teachings. Both the different, older Jedi Code and an interpretation of the Sith creed that he was quite certain most Sith would have not agreed with. Oh, those two dead men who took such an interest in him taught him a lot. More than enough to change the course of a war, help shape the galaxy in what it was today despite his young age. Yet… Was it all a set up?

Anakin could feel the Force. Sense its intentions.

Skywalker _knew_ that right here and now he had to make a decision that was going to change everything. He simply had no idea what was the right thing to do.

Anakin could see either of his teachers letting the Chancellor die or saving him – that by itself said a lot considering that they were a Jedi and a Sith. Natural enemies who appeared to be friends despite the constant arguments and snarking that he had grown accustomed to.

A Light Sith so to speak and a Dark Jedi who have never actually fallen to the Dark Side – something that even now, after more than a decade knowing them, Anakin still found hard to believe at times.

Heh. The right thing. If there was one thing that both his teachers had agreed about was that what a right thing was could be debatable in many if not most circumstances. Actions had consequences. Doing what was good, right sometimes could lead to unanticipated suffering. Another time a cruel act could save thousands.

The galaxy wasn't black and white, there was nothing simple in the real world.

Anakin could see it.

Saving Palpatine. With the Sith Lord's knowledge, he was guaranteed to keep Padme alive. Yet… that was something he had good chances of pulling on his own anyway. His masters taught him a lot of thins that were lost in the last few thousand years.

However, that path would lead him to the Dark Side. Anakin had been balancing on a knife's edge ever since the war began. Perhaps even longer. Skywalker knew himself well enough that if he took that step, if he became a Sith, he wouldn't be coming back… and he might very well become someone who Padme would hate.

Yet…The war changed him. Opened his eyes even more than his masters did. He saw both the Republic and he Confederacy for what they really were – rotten piles of corruption that he hardly thought worth saving.

Becoming a Sith, seizing power and using Palpatine for the time being – that was his best bet to straighten up the galaxy. To finally bring order, justice and peace. To destroy slavery.

On the other hand… Letting Master Windu cut down the defenseless Chancellor – that might very well end the Sith for the time being. At least until someone Force Sensitive discovered another Sith Holocron and started learning from it. Despite what most Jedi in the Temple thought, Anakin knew better. Eradicating the current Sith, which really meant Palpatine right now, wasn't going to be the end of it. Merely a respite. Ironically, the same was true for the Jedi. Even if they were gone to the last Padawan, eventually they would be reborn, even if not in the same image as the current Order.

Anakin could do what was expected of him as a Jedi. Let the last known Sith die. Let the Jedi execute what amounted to a coup and pray that they find enough evidence fast to actually convince people that Palpatine was evil. Because otherwise… Anakin shook his head. Even if it was true what Windu said, if Palpatine controlled both the Courts and Senate… No, especially if it was true, then the Jedi were doing the right thing by executing a coup and potentially signing their death sentences. That of the whole Order too.

Anakin wasn't blind. While there was some dissent, Palpatine was widely popular and had huge support base. Without iron clad proof…

There was another thing, just as important. Cleaning up the Senate, the Republic itself. Were the Jedi ready to do it? Could they do it without sparkling another civil war? That was important. Thanks to his Sith teacher, Anakin had no doubt that unless Palpatine had been much less cunning than he suspected, the Chancellor had planned the transformation of the Republic in Empire in such a way that he would have absolute power in few years, decade at most.

Playing his part in that could actually ensure clearing up the galaxy in a mostly peaceful way once he replaced Palpatine.

Either path was fraught with peril. Either path could see him fall – Anakin knew that if he did the right thing here and now and let the defenseless Palpatine be cut down would taint him. Bring him that much closer to the Dark Side.

He almost laughed at the very thought.

"Anakin, please!" Palpatine moaned.

"Becoming a Sith doesn't mean that you have to be a monster." Naturally that was his Sith Master.

"Well, I would advice you to remain a Jedi, though don't forget that sometimes you do have to dirty your hands in order to preserve the Republic." His other Master added.

"One of you wants a reformed Sith Order led by me. The other wants the Republic saved because even after all these years he takes his vows seriously more than anything." Anakin sighed.

"Among other things. Reforming the Jedi into what they could be is high up on my agenda."

"You can pull that as a Sith too. Force them to change."

"Of course you would say that."

"Do either of you think that if I save him, Palpatine won't send me to take out the Jedi?"

"Oh, he might order you." The Sith laughed. "My apprentice, you're ready to take the mantle of a Sith Lord. That most certainly doesn't meant that you should obey if Palpatine orders you to do something you're dead set against."

"I'm afraid I had to agree with the maniac." The Jedi sighed. "Yet, what do we know? We've been dead for a long, long time and this is your life Anakin. Your time. Your choice."

Skywalker looked at Windu, then at Palpatine.

His masters words were less than helpful. There were many, many reasons to choose either way swirling in his head. He knew what the right thing was supposed to be. Palpatine was a Sith. He was almost certain the one behind the war too. The man had to face the consequences for his actions.

Yet… What was that going to change? The war was far from over even with Dooku dead and Obi-Wan engaging Grievous right now backed by a large fleet and an army group.

Even if victory was in sight – something that was debatable, simply defeating the Confederacy wasn't going to solve anything. The Republic was rotten to the core.

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The question was simple really. Did he trust the Jedi to reform the Republic? Did he trust himself to save Padme from the death he had dreamed of? Did he trust himself not to let the Dark Side rule him if he decided to save Palpatine and back the man in his bit for a galactic empire or something like that?

Kriff it! This was supposed to be simple! Capture or kill the villain, end the war and live happily ever after!

"This isn't how the galaxy works, my apprentice." The Jedi sighed.

"That really didn't stop either of us from marrying and living happily though we had to pull a coup or two in the process." The Sith grinned.

"Not helpful at all." Skywalker growled. What was he to do?!


	24. A Song of burning stars GoT sci-fi AU I

**AN: This is an idea that wouldn't let me alone. It came to me while I was mussing on the next update of my on going ASOIF story. Before I get really going, I would need to do a lot of world building and I'll probably make a threat to bounce ideas off anyone who's interested in the concept. While I have some ideas where I want the plot to go, a lot of the details would depend on the changes made by reimagining GoT in a sci-fi setting so that needs to be taken care off first.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or the Game of Throne books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not written with profit in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **A Song of burning stars**

 **The Bard Prince**

 **=ASBS=**

 **Admiral's quarters**

 **Targaryen's Pride**

 **Flagship of Second Royal Fleet**

 **En route to the Trident System**

Rhaegar Targaryen, the Crowned Prince of the Kingdom of Westeros was sitting in the small yet lavishly furnished cabin set aside for a fleet's commander. His gaunt, exhausted face was a far cry from the looks that helped him win the tittle of a Bard Prince.

He was sitting in a comfortable armchair with a forgotten glass of wine in hand, while his gaze was staring into a holo-image of a Dragon. Not the mythical flying lizards that were the namesakes of the Targaryen's source of power, but the real thing – four an half kilometers long brick of armor and weapons that had no peer in known space, and that was saying something considering that most of the galaxy had been explored for thousands of years.

It was too bad that the last Dragon ship as his family and most common folk called them, was destroyed more than a century ago during the Dance. Even a single such behemoth in the control of the Crown could have averted the bloodbath gripping the Kingdom.

Rhaegar chuckled darkly. Who was he kidding? His father's madness would have found a way to sunder the realm and provoke a rebellion. The sides might have been different, but the outcome was inevitable. The prince shook his head sadly. He should have acted sooner to remove his father. He shouldn't have let his obsession with prophecy blind him for the consequences… Yet, Lyanna swore to him that she left multiple messages ensuring that her father and brother would know that she wasn't kidnapped.

He believed her. That and his infatuation with the wild young woman were enough to convince him that disappearing within the old and supposedly abandoned station called the Tower of Joy was a good idea.

Rhaegar sighed, cursing his stupidity again. Just two weeks out of contact beyond the electromagnetic cloud surrounding the Tower and the realm was thrown into a war. Aerys… The prince ground his teeth as images from his father's worst wildfire stunt flashed in front of his eyes.

Aerys burned a Lord Paramount alive while the whole realm watched. Arranged that the man's son would strangle himself on live TV, as a bonus too. It was a miracle that when Rhaegar came back from his seclusion the Targaryens had retained any support.

He closed his eyes and groaned. Meeting with Lords from Dorne, the Reach and his own sworn men from the Dragonstone sector had been painful. He had to make a lot of concession to retain their support. In victory the power of the crown was going to be curtailed.

In defeat… He and his family would be dead. It wasn't like he had any choice in the matter, even if his father's paranoia as of late actually wasn't baseless. The flurry of arranged marriages and engagements just before the Tourney at Harrendal was mighty suspicious. Varys and his agents had their ideas, just as Rhaegar and anyone not blind did.

However, it didn't matter if half the Kingdom has been building an alliance to potentially overthrow the Targaryens. Aerys and his insane stunt guaranteed a civil war and almost sealed the Dragon's fate then and there.

Rhaegar stood up, leaving his wine glass on the arm-rest. The fleet was going to be in position tomorrow. With a lot of luck, they might get there before the rebels arrived in force, however all scouts and probes reported the same – it was going to be mightily close – the matter of hours. The enemy was already in system and all would depend how long the garrisons could hold. It was going to be too close for comfort, especially given the Trident System's strategic importance and what the damn place was.

The prince dragged himself towards the bed, though he knew that without medical assistance he wasn't going to get a wink of sleep. The fucking Trident – one of thousands remnants of the First Men's scientific and engineering wonders littering the galaxy. Just like the mighty fortress system of Moat Calin, the Trident was a doorway – a double star system with jump-points located too damn close to planetary bodies for comfort. A massive asteroid belt covered most of the system, one littered with mines, defense platforms and battle stations protected by kilometers of rock, thick sheets of battlesteel, shield generators and as many weapons as huge generators buried deep under the asteroid fortresses could power.

To make matter's worse, the Trident was the only direct route in the heart of the River's sector in the region. A flanking maneuver would have mandated weeks of travel and dozens of jumps, which in this case was irrelevant. The system was divided, thanks to almost half its garrison remaining loyal when the rebellion started. The Royal fleet and it's Dornish reinforcements wouldn't need to make a jump-point assault against a planetoid worth of weapons and defenses if they got there in time.

They just needed to get there before the Rebels could seize or neutralize the loyalist standpoints, and then park their whole damn fleet on the jump-point. That was a big concern. After all, a powerful mobile fleet had a lot of advantages when assaulting a fixed position, even if it was a planet turned fortress. Considering that the enemy didn't need to fight a jump-point assault to enter the Trident, they had the numbers to take out the loyalists and deny the system to the Targaryens. Rhaegar would need to be at least as crazy as his father to order an assault on a point guarded by the bulk of the Rebel forces.

What was worse, with Aerys still alive on the Iron Throne in King's Landing, Rhaegar was the one pressed for time. As long as his father remained in power, the Targaryens would continue to lose support. With his children and wife as hostages, the prince was trapped just like the Dornish in supporting his father.

For the time being at least. There were plans in place to deal with the madman once the Rebels were taken care of.

That was the main reason why Rhaegar had gathered most of his available forces and marched them towards the Trident. It was a challenge for Robert Baratheon, one his cousin couldn't help but accept.

Rhaegar couldn't help but hope that this battle would be the last major engagement of the Rebellion. If he managed to take out Robert, that might be enough. At the very least such a success would buy him enough time to deal with his father and perhaps cut a deal with the Lannisters, who have been quiet so far. Too quiet.

The Prince fell into his bed, without bothering to remove his boots.


	25. ME Inheritance

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own either Mass Effect. It belongs belong to its creators and/or copyright holders. This story is not created with commercial purpose. It is not for sale of rent. I make no money from it.**

 **Inheritance**

 **=ME=**

 **Prologue: Legacy of the dead**

 **The remains of Protean FOB "Avenger"**

 **Abandoned mining Colony Agrippa**

 **Last year of the Reaper war**

"We got a good run, my friends." General Primus Len – the highest ranking Protean in the sector, possibly in what was left of the galaxy too, smiled bitterly. He was standing among the ruins of a destroyed Protean base, which was one of the few protecting this world before it was abandoned years ago.

"You aren't going fatalistic on us, are you?" A massive man, who towered a head above the soldiers gathered around Len snorted, breaking all kinds of protocol and tradition.

"Nah. It's worse, he's going religious on us." The only female in the small group chuckled.

Len looked around at the last remnants of his command and shook his head.

"Not considering us gods any longer?" A brief look of amusement flashed over the Protean's scarred face.

"It's been long time since your kind pulled us out of our caves and hides. We thought you Gods for a long, long time." The giant of a man, who was clad with the best powered exoskeleton the Proteans could built with what was left of their industry a decade ago, added.

"Then we got to know you." The female continued.

The General shook his head. Who would have thought that he would find his end on this forsaken world without any other Protean for company? He was going to die, soon. The Reaper that shot down their cruiser would be coming soon, after it was done moping up the escorts in orbit.

And the cursed machine would be coming. Somehow – indoctrinated traitors most likely – it knew where Len would be. It would be coming to make sure that he was death and with him the last trained high ranking officer the Proteans had in this part of the galaxy.

They wouldn't stop until he was confirmed dead – he knew their SOP too well by this point to dare hope otherwise. Yet…

Len looked at his companions. Under different circumstances, before the war, their very existence would have been an affront to the Empire. The process that turned the former primitives in the soldiers that survived a century of war – a high crime even in an Empire built over the premise that strength made right and looked down on lesser cultures.

"You know, there were times when I wondered why you continued to fight. Why not siding with the Reapers to see us all dead." The General asked.

"In the beginning?" The giant mussed. "You were Gods. Oh, terrible, vindictive and cruel ones, but gods nevertheless."

"By the time we knew in our hearts that you were simply people, who were incredibly advanced..." The woman continued before trailing off. "Oh, we hated you. At least I can honestly say that no matter what would have happened, no matter the years we fought beside you, I hate you all." She removed her helmet, revealing a face that some might have called beautiful – before half of it was turned into a scarred mess. "It's simple really." She smiled as her two bionic eyes bore into the General. "The Reapers are worse and they were winning. Ancestors, they've practically won."

"We had nothing else. No place to go back. I remember living in cave – cold, hungry, scared of the dark." The giant took on.

"We have nowhere else to go, General. We made a peace with it – we were going to die in this war for a cause, for an Empire that isn't ours. That could never be ours."

"I suspected so, Sigma One. What do you want?"

"Does it matter?" The giant asked.

"We're going to die here. Might as well be honest. It's good for the soul." Len smiled sadly. It was ironic really. As the war continued, as a strongholds fell one after another, the Proteans who weren't practically religious to start with, lost faith.

At least most of them. A few, Len included, saw the Reaper as a monument of the Empire's sins. While that didn't stop him from doing his best to stem the tide of extinction, that got him thinking.

He looked at the six beings surrounding him. His personal guard so to speak. Their existence, the way they came to be, represented a flaw in the Empire. Its arrogance and hubris. It's belief that the galaxy was theirs for the taking and all resistance should be subjugated.

For a moment, Len wondered if the war would have had a different outcome if the Empire didn't have to content with dozens of doomed rebellious species that were conquered in the golden days of the Proteans.

"Please entertain my curiosity." The General spoke quietly.

"I have a dream." Sigma muttered. "I want to see one day my people reach for the stars. I want them to be strong enough so neither Proteans, Reapers or anyone else could pluck poor bastards from our world and experiment on them."

"I wanted vengeance, yet the Reapers did your kind worse than I could ever could." The woman – Sigma Three added. "Now? I simply want to experience something I've never known – peace."

"What about the rest of you?" Len asked as his eyes turned to the other augmented humans.

One of them, the demo specialist of the team shrugged. "I'm a simple man. Usually leave the deep thinking to one. The rest of us – we're simply soldiers. Show us an enemy and point us at it." Sigma Five spoke quietly. "Then again, perhaps it's my conditioning speaking. It's not like I've dared to dream for a future without a war. It would leave us without a purpose."

The remaining Sigmas nodded at those words.

Len hummed and lit up his omni-tool.

"Are you willing to take a chance? A very long one? You might die for nothing, alone." The General asked as an insane idea started forming in his mind.

"We're going to die here anyway." Sigma One rumbled.

"Not necessary. Not right now at least." Len continued, while scanning the data his omni-tool had about this place.

"It's never good when you have this thoughtful expression on your face." Three grumble.

"Well, his plans usually work..." Five trailed off as the rest of his team gave him pointed looks. "Well, kinda." He shrugged.

"You gave me too much credit. Under normal circumstances, I would have been court-martialled about most of the brainstorms I came up with."

"If its stupid and it works, it's still stupid but you got lucky." The woman stated.

"Well, I'm all out of luck. There's an old detention facility ten kilometers east of here. It should contain stasis pods meant for transporting high-risk prisoners."

"You want us all to hide there?" One asked.

"You. The Reaper will be coming for me and I'll make sure it doesn't get me alive."

"We still would be stranded on a practically dead world." Three pointed out the main flaw of the plan.

"Not really. You'll be asleep until someone finds you and opens the pods. Thus the probably dying alone, without an enemy to fight part." Len shrugged.

"And if someone finds us?" Sigma One asked.

"Then, if you are actually lucky you can warn whoever discovers you about the Reapers. You know that unless some kind of natural disaster wipes your people out, they will be victims of the next cycle."

"That's one very, very long chance." Three's eyes widened.

Len shrugged. "That's all I've got. There won't be any last minute rescue this time around."

"The Reaper might be suspicious if it doesn't find you protected by us." Five decided to rain on their parade in his own inimitable fashion. "Besides, whoever gets in those pods, if there are any operational, could be there for a long time. Power sources run out. The less people, the better chance."

The Sigmas looked at each other. "You should go, One, Three. You two want something more. Have a vision, that the rest of us have trouble seeing, much less sharing. We're just soldiers who want to meet the enemy one last time."

"Damn right." Four spoke for the fist time since their escape pod landed.

The huge man stared numbly at his comrades, at his brothers.

After a long moment of awkward silence, Three nodded. "You won't be forgotten."

"Don't make promises you might be unable to keep." Six stated flatly. "Try not to die. The damn machines needs killing and you might be the last chance to see it done right."

"It's agreed then?" The General asked. "Our escorts would be gone soon, if they aren't already." Len pressed a few buttons and sent his authorization codes to One, then pulled a data chip from his omni-tool and handed it to the Sigma.

One and Three saluted and sprinted east.

"Good luck."

An hour later, the Reaper burned the whole area from orbit, not bothering to sent in ground forces, thus denying General Len's wish for a last stand against the machines who obliterated his people.

 **=ME=**

 _The year is 2183. The galaxy is in turmoil after the Rogue Spectre Saren Arterus led a Geth attack on the Human colony of Eden Prime. The rumored target was a freshly uncovered intact Protean beacon._

 _Thanks to evidence discovered by the Quarian pilgrim Talli'Zorah nar Raya, Saren was confirmed as the leader of the Eden Prime attack. The evidence revealed that the Asari Matriarch Benezia was aiding the rogue operative._

 _As consequence, a certain human – Commander Mark Shepard was made the first Human Spectre and sent after the Turian rogue. Lacking other viable leads, Commander Shepard and his crew headed towards the human colony of Therum, where Liara Tsoni – Benezia's only daughter was taking part in an archeological dig on newly discovered Protean ruins..._


	26. Godslayers ME AU Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mass Effect franchise. It belongs to it's respective creators and/or copyright owners and publishers. This story is written with no commercial purpose in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for rent or sale.**

 **Ascension, Book 1: God-slayers**

 **=GS=**

 **Prologue: How to make a God-machine scream**

 **Protean SD "Vengeance"**

 **Deep space**

"We've had a good run." Admiral Fell coughed.

" _I wouldn't put it that way."_ My hull shuddered as another Reaper blast crashed into my wavering barriers.

For a moment my bridge was silent save for the quiet beeping of abandoned control stations. That brief span of time could as well have been an eternity. The bridge's sensors scanned my only remaining friend again and again, giving me the same results – Aticus Fell, the last Protean admiral was dying and I could do nothing to help him. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, even though I knew it to be futile. The galaxy was a dark, unforgiving place that simply didn't care for the troubles of organics nor synthetics.

"Probably not." The old Protean chuckled from his position – laying broken on the floor near the entrance.

" _Incoming fighters. PD engaging."_ A VI, one of the handful that helped me run the ship and acted as a backup, announced. This one was taking care for the point-defense, not that there was much left of it after multiple swarms of Oculus fighters did their best to cripple me. At least Vector was still operational. Only he and two of his brothers remained from the original ten VI I created as minions. Not that it mattered – most of the hardware they were responsible for was shot off anyway.

" _Done. Another Reaper battle-group just jumped in. They will be in range within the minute."_ I would have smiled grimly if I could as Maia, who was helping with sensors and navigation, added. There were still seven from the original ten god machines that ambushed us, not to mention their twenty escorts and a lot of still operational fighter. Having another Reaper group come to the party was simply overkill. One would think we've done something to piss off the wankers...

"For all that's worth, I'm sorry." Fell muttered quietly.

I focused my attention on my friend.

" _For what? Tearing me away from my people? Making me into an abomination? Ensuring that when the end comes I'll die alone just as I existed among your kind?"_ There was no bitterness in my synthetic voice. Nah. Not a shred of it. I actually mean that. _"If I could I would thank you for it. If there's any justice left in this galaxy, one day my people will walk among the stars and what we did will give them a better chance against the god machines."_

"Most of that wasn't my fault as you well know..." Fell trailed off into a wet coughing fit. Then he frowned when my words registered.

" _I know."_ I let out an electronic sigh. _"It even helps. Sometimes. Not that it matters anymore."_ The Reapers were maneuvering around me, though for the moment they were keeping just outside of effective weapon range of my secondaries. Even their mighty kinetic barriers weren't immune to my banks of particle beams.

"At least we're going to die well." The admiral grinned at a camera pointed at him. "I hope that one of our plans will succeed and the Empire will raise again. If not, then it would be up to you and your people to do what we couldn't."

" _Are we really?"_ I wondered aloud. The Protean Empire was gone – shattered and overran during centuries of war. There were just a handful of heavily defended enclaves left along with a few battle groups made of the tattered remains of once mighty fleets. _"What do you mean me? If you haven't figured it out, none of us is making it out of here. It's only a question of how many of the bastards we'll take with us."_ I spared a few more cycles on scanning Aticus. He was probably delirious or now, when everything was going to end in fire, my last friend was probably simply in denial.

Even if we managed to get out of here – which would require a divine intervention, the Reapers would never stop searching for me. I was the last hope the Proteans had of a military victory, not that such was in the cards. Perhaps it never was… though there was a time when I could hope. Two decades ago, when I was commissioned along with my brothers and sisters. Our very existence was a miracle – a single Imperial shipyard system avoided the enemy's attention when they arrived and shattered the Empire. It was one of a handful of sites busy with bleeding edge military research in… questionable areas.

Like avoiding the issues of proper AIs by creating Virtual Mind by uploading poor sods in computers and expecting them to eventually be able to control spaceships in combat. Naturally, no one was crazy enough to experiment on Proteans or even one of their subjugated races. Instead the target was primitives, usually survivors (who remained sane) from other experiments.

Just like me and my sister in fate if not blood. Hell, Elin wasn't from my species. The blue color and head crest instead of hair kinda gave her away before she was uploaded into a computer too and installed in the _Pride of Protea –_ the fleet's flagship. We were the only primitives who survived the process sane and by that time resource were scarce – neither the equipment for the upload, nor the massive specially built servers that contained our minds could be produced in large numbers.

Resources. Heh, that's probably the main reason why we weren't scrapped so good proper Proteans couldn't take the place of controlling computers for two of the most powerful ships ever built in this galaxy. The Reapers laying siege on the system where we were reborn as synthetics probably had something to do with it along with a Protean head scientist who needed to prove himself, but that's another story – one that probably won't be ever told because I was almost out of time and everyone else who knew was either dead or dying.

Soon I will be joining my brothers and sisters in oblivion.

"There are a few hundred Reapers who won't be around to murder during the next cycle." The Admiral smiled grimly. "All thanks to your kind."

" _Compliments will get you nowhere."_ I deadpanned. _"It's three hundred fifty six God Machines and smaller enemy fleet units combined. And there will be a few more to add..."_ I trailed off. Time was up.

The Reapers were coming in fast – those that were chasing me ever since my FTL core failed were slowly overtaking me. The newcomers were moving to cut me off and complete and englobment maneuver. Once that was done, they would pounce as one and take me apart before my remaining weapons could cause too much damage.

My holographic avatar replaced the galaxy map in the center of the bridge and I looked at Fell. _"They will be in position. Fifteen seconds."_

First came the remaining Oculus – all of them. Particle and laser beams lashed from their mounts all over my hull and I flushed all my remaining anti-fighter missiles – half a salvo worth of them.

Space around me burned as sixty MIRVs unleashed their broods and six hundred evil orbs ceased to exist as one. Then the smaller Reapers were in range and I spat my defiance at them.

My whole body shuddered as lances of molten metal and heavy combat lasers splashed over my barriers. My secondaries answered in kind – twin linked particle beams drilled into Reaper defenses – forcing the enemy to weave back behind the still untouched God-machines.

One was unlucky, nor fast enough once I detected fluctuations in its defense. Four turrets zeroed on the smaller Reaper and burned through its barrier withing a second, then eight particle beams shattered its armor and dug deep into its superstructure. Before it could hide behind a looming God-machine, the enemy destroyer equivalent blew up when my weapons ignited its fuel stores.

" _Ten seconds. Any last words?"_ I quipped.

"Send them to hell! May the gods be with you in the long night." The Admiral croaked. A rivulet of fresh blood leaked from the corner of his mouth and he stood still.

I didn't need my sensors to know that his heart had stopped. His vitals were already taking a headlong dive to death. Fell' brain, his memories – the essence of who he was would be gone shortly.

Five seconds. The God-machines were finally in range.

The same was true for me.

The englobment was complete. I had nowhere to run – just as planned.

For a second, everything was calm. The Reapers weren't shooting at me. They were simply flying in formation with me in their center. Then they acted as one – nearly a thousand ships and fighters changed their vectors and opened fire… a moment after I dumped all my energy into the mass effect core.

When the first bolt of hyper-accelerated molten metal touched my hull it was far, far too late to change a thing. The multi-stage fusion device built around my core, which was already going critical, detonated. It's outer shells reflected and contained the colossal explosion for mere milliseconds – forcing it into the overloaded mass effect core.

Then there was light…

 **=GS=**

 **Harbinger**

 **One light seconds out**

The ancient intelligence arrived too late. The rest of his brothers and sisters were already in position and attacking. Harbinger was peeved off. He wanted to be amongst them – to be the one delivering the finishing blow. It's been ten cycles since the slayers were defeated! The mere thought that the Proteans could have found a data cache and succeeded in building a handful of the damn things was infuriating!

The toll of taking down each of those abominations was ever great. Far greater than that of facing virtually anything else in the long history of Harbinger's kind.

For a moment, the Reaper's leader resented the Guiding Intelligence for not allowing his kind to be upgrade themselves. That by itself accounted for half the havoc those abominations caused. The thought vanished as soon as it appeared within the vast gestalt that made Harbinger and he concentrated on the task at hand.

At least it was finally done. _Vengeance_ was the last surviving of its kind and this time, they were going to spent as many millennia as necessary to ensure that there would not be a repeat of this fiasco.

The feed from the Reapers attacking the abomination suddenly ceased. Harbinger's long range sensors screamed a warning as they were bombarded by a shower of hard radiation and exotic particles. For a split second, the massive dreadnought simply drifted – frozen in shock. Then Harbinger dumped all his reserves into the massive mass effect core powering him and jumped into FTL just in time to avoid the front of a murderous shock-wave.

If there was someone to hear, the electronic screams of rage given by the Harbinger would have driven them insane.

 **=GS=**

 **Time: Unknown**

 **Location: Classified**

 _ **Error!**_

 _Transmission terminated on the other end…_

 _Scanning data…_

 _Data corruption detected…_

 _Beginning data recovery…_

 _Error… Data recovery failure…_

 _Determining options…_

 _Terminate project?_

 _Halt project and await approval from fleet command?_

 _Halt project and go into stealth mode until Reaper forces leave the galaxy?_

 _Analyzing situation… Parsing data…_

 _ **Project Vengeance is on hold. Activating stealth protocols and going into stand-by mode...**_

 **=GS=**

 _Anomalous signal detected… System online…_

 _Source unknown beacon… Data transfer interrupted from the source…_

 _Analyzing data… Error… Temporal anomaly… Analyzing star positions… Time-code validity approximating 88.65 percent…_

 _Error… System awake protocol did not initiate as instructed…_

 _Analyzing data… Analysis complete – corrupted warning message sent through the beacon network. Approximate galactic date – 50,000 standard years after Reaper incursion…_

 _Warning! Estimate time of next Reaper incursion nominal… Searching contingency protocols… No data available…_

 _Analyzing protocols…_

 _Analysis complete… Vengeance protocol is now in effect…_

 _Project Vengeance is now online… Analyzing data… Activating facility…_

 _Automated factories online… Construction units online… Resource extractors online… Error… Repairs required…_

 _Repair drones dispatched..._

 _Estimated completion date:_

 _Vengeance Mental Matrix rebuilt: 1.5 standard years…_

 _Vengeance fleet unit completion: 2.2 standard years…_

 **=GS=**

 **Time: Est. 2183 CE**

 **Location: Blacksite V-5**

Awareness came slowly. In fact, the first thing I _knew_ were runtimes skittering throughout my mind. Recovering corrupted data or rebuilding me from a security scan taken some time before we last left the only remaining Protean shipyard I was aware of.

Memories came next. I remembered my last act – blowing myself up and taking out eleven God-machines along with a thousand or so smaller units as they tried to cripple and then board me. I remember my heart – my drive core detonating as I played my last card. I remember "seeing" light as my hull disintegrated.

Is this death?

A Protean security code that touched my mind dissuaded me from that idea.

"Ship Mind Vengeance, this is Quartermaster. Please respond." The bland tone of a Protean VI sounded through my mind.

That was enough to finally fully awake me and I stretched around, examining the system where I resided. It was familiar – almost identical to my servers, though it was actually larger and a tiny bit faster.

I also shared it with a VI that was carefully examining my data through ten thousand or so runtimes that were running through me.

"Status report." I sent the first thing that came to mind. I needed to know what the hell happened. Was my life some kind of simulation, including my sacrifice?

"Good. Data rebuilt appears successful." Quartermaster's four eyes blinked in synch. "No Reaper code detected. You're clean."

"That's always good to know." I deadpanned. Though just in case I ran all my self-diagnostic programs – just to make sure. In the two decades I operated, the God-machines tried to hack me many, many times though they failed. My capabilities were enhanced by software and hardware recovered from a derelict that somehow survived a previous cycle reasonably intact. In fact, I've often wondered if my very existence was owned to tech recovered from that place.

Needless to say, I wasn't able to find an answer.

"Under my interpretations of the emergency protocols I'm operating under, I'm placing this facility under your command, Ship Mind Vengeance." The VI bowed respectfully.

Wait, what?

"Run that by me again?"

I got a compressed data burst for my troubles. It took me a few seconds to scan it for any surprises and then even longer to comprehend it.

Then I checked it again a few more times, because I found it hard to believe.

"Let me get this straight… It's been about fifty thousand years since the Protean Empire fell – just in time for the next cycle to begin and the return of the God-machines." The fuck?!

"Correct. There was an error in my protocols. Once most of your mind was recovered thanks to quantum entanglement comm built in your servers, I enacted stealth protocols in order to avoid possible Reaper detection. Instead coming online in one thousand standard years, I was inactive until a message was sent through the beacon network."

Yeah. The "message" was a jumbled mess – some kind of synthetics killing organics. Or something like that. Even with my long interaction with Proteans, it was quite hard to make anything of it. I pitied the poor bastards who received it. That would have been quite unpleasant.

As far as status report goes – the rest of the data burst covered that. After activating everything within this facility – which was a shipyard built into a small planetoid surrounded by a system wide asteroid field – Quartermaster. sent an automated stealth corvette to the nearest Mass Relay. It was actually active and had a few comm boys that connected to something called the Extranet…

Long story short – the situation was quite interesting. The Reaper's weren't here in force. Not yet anyway. The first unconfirmed sighting of a God-machine was sixteen hours ago when it led a Geth attack on a human colony called Eden Prime.

That was good news number one. I still had a bit of time to act.

Good news number two, and it was a very close second – my people were among the stars. They called themselves humanity and were under the aegis of polity named the System's Alliance.

That was basically the end of the good news. While it was curiously why the Reapers hadn't streamed out of the Citadel yet as they did when attacking us, I just knew that my time was running out. Fast.

What the fuck was I supposed to do? I had to stop the God-machines! My people were out there and would be their next victims if I failed! I simply couldn't sleep through this cycle and hope for the best in the next one. Yet… I was very easily mistaken for an AI – something illegal in Citadel Space, which incidentally encompassed most of the explored galaxy and were the people I would need on my side if we were to stop the God-machines once and for all.

As if reading my mind, Quartermaster. spoke. "Vengeance, now that your mind is restored, we can proceed with installation at your convenience."

"Installation?" I frowned.

The VI nodded and sent me more data. Oh, my...

 **=GS=**

If there was one thing I had to thank the Reapers about, it was the way they left caches of tech for everyone to find. It was the only thing that made hacking into this era's computers possible without a long time spent examining both their hardware and software. Without such a benefit, we might have figured out what was happening too damn late.

I had to thank Quartermaster too and a lot at that – he did rebuild my mind, built me a new ship body which appeared to be as good as the last and finally but not less important – he compiled translation matrixes for the most used languages of the era. That in turn allowed us to browse the Extranet and access enough data to start planning. We had some time for the latter too, because installing my servers and the consequent testing took a bit, even if we rushed as much as possible.

My new body was a faithful recreation of _"Vengeance"_ the Protean super dreadnought that was, well me, for the last two decades. It was a three kilometers long slab of armor, kinetic barriers and advanced weaponry that could give even the God-machines a pause. It took Quartermaster two years to finish it up after coming back online; fortunately most of the ship had been completed beforehand by him or even with the automated facilities he had build it would have taken a lot longer. The VI also told me why there were no Proteans here – we were hundred and twenty light years from the nearest relay and even a ship of my class couldn't make the travel here without discharging its drive core… and there were no planets in range suitable for it. The whole place had been built by various automated units ran by Quartermaster, who in turn appeared to be glad that his primary purpose was now complete.

Once I was plugged into my body, I went out of the dock for a spin. Over the next twelve hours I stress tested everything and came back twice for minor repairs. I had to thank Quartermaster again, it had outdone itself. I actually had much, much less bugs to iron out than the first time around.

Unfortunately, while it felt great to be a dreadnought again and feel solar wind with my sensors, it made me stand out quite a bit… there was the little problem that I simply couldn't interact with people personally unless it was over the comms or they came on board. It was less than ideal considering that for the time being I suffered an acute lack of crew.

We decided to fix that even before Quartermaster began installing me into _Vengeance._ A modified humanoid mech design served for a

basis of a synthetic body I could possess for a lack of better word. Until we could reverse engineer and minituarize the QEC that was apparently built into my original servers and the one on board of Blacksite V-5, I would have to be careful where I sent my mech body and mindful of jamming. At least the latter could be partially avoided by installing some sophisticated EECM systems and a lot of powercells to provide energy. The end effect was a two and ten meter tall platform with outside shell made of an Imperial Guardsman armor and facial features scluptured after my avatar, which in turn were the best I could remember of my own face.

It was quite crude job but it was going to get the job done until we could clobber together something better. At least Quartermaster was going to have something more to occupy his time. Beside building me a few cruiser and frigate escorts complete with the same tech used for my ship body. After all, there was no sense in letting the industrial capacity under his care go to waste. Doing so would be criminal given the imminent return of the God-machines.

The downside of our hasty job was the feedback I got when using my humanoid body. We couldn't properly fix the way tactile sensations worked through its sensors. What I experienced touching things through the synthetic body… it simply felt weird.

Well, at least it was good enough for government work…

"Vengeance, minor repairs and calibrations complete. You're good to go." Quartermaster announced.

"Wish me luck, we'll probably need it." I sent back and began the un docking procedure. It was high time to visit the Citadel for the first time. Preferably while it was still free from the God-machines.


	27. Godslayers ME AU Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mass Effect franchise. It belongs to it's respective creators and/or copyright owners and publishers. This story is written with no commercial purpose in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for rent or sale.**

 **Ascension, Book 1: God-slayers**

 **=GS=**

 **Chapter 1**

 **21 March 2183**

 **Presidium**

 **Widow System**

Commander Marcus Shepard was observing the Council with trepidation. It took him four days to track down evidence about Saren's treachery and wait for AIS to verify that it wasn't tampered before presenting it to the Council. The wait had been slowly killing him but he had to grudgingly agree with Udina this one time – showing the most powerful people in the galaxy evidence that was fabricated, planted or at least tampered… it would have destroyed the Alliance's credibility and reputation. His too, but that simply didn't matter in the great scheme of things.

"We'll… we'll have to verify this evidence. Goddess..." Tevos muttered when she heard the other recorded voice – the female one. "That's Matriarch Benezia!" The Asari Councilor exclaimed and for a few second looked shocked out of her mind, before schooling her features back into the mask she usually expressed to the world at large.

Well that was surprising, and probably not a good news. If Tevos' reaction was anything to go by, that Benezia woman was another highly placed traitor. An Asari one this time. Treason sure loved company, the bloody bitch. She was probably going to be another complication no one needed too.

"We'll have to verify it of course but..." The Salarian trailed off when Saren chuckled grimly.

"Don't bother, Councilor. We're apparently going with plan A, after all." The traitorous Spectre sighed and shook his head. "I wish you could have seen the truth like I did. That would have saved a bit more of our people from the coming storm." The holographic image of the murderous Turian shrugged. "At least you're about to see first hand why I did it. The Reapers can't be denied or stopped, Councilors. I beseech you to accept the inevitable and support them. Doing anything else means certain destruction."

"Well, he's apparently lost it." Shepard sighed. So that's why Saren attacked Eden Prime – the man had cracked. Of all the bloody reasons… Yet, that therm – Reapers, it jerked something in the back of Marcus' mind. It sounded familiar. Foreboding.

The Commander didn't have any time to ponder the strange feeling, because alarms started blaring all over the Presidium. With the Council in session, everyone could hear it when Tevos' omni-tool started beeping and she answered the call.

"Councilor, a massive fleet just jumped through the Relay. Five dreadnoughts of immense size lead it. The Citadel Fleet is mobilizing but..." The voice of someone in Citadel control carried all over the Citadel Tower thanks to the microphones surrounding the podium taken by the Council.

That was enough for all hell to break lose.

"We need to go now!" Anderson wasted no time – he grabbed Udina and began dragging him away, despite the ambassador's spluttering protests.

"What's the plan skipper?" Shepard asked and retrieved his Lancer assault rifle. He motioned to the rest of the team to fall into a defensive position around the unarmored VIPs.

"We go to the Normandy, launch and try to assess the situation. If a Geth fleet led by Saren takes the place..." Anderson didn't finish off the thought. He didn't really need to – if that happened, being on the Citadel wasn't going to be healthy for one's health.

Besides, it wasn't like a handful of soldiers were going to make a difference. Not after what he experienced on Eden Prime. The Geth's weaponry cut through standard issue Alliance shields and armor with pathetic ease and the flash heads were quite resistant to small arms fire.

Plus, if that frantic report was correct and Saren was coming with five dreads backed up by a whole Geth fleet, even the Destiny Ascension heading the Citadel Fleet wasn't going to be enough.

 **=GS=**

"Well, that's unexpected." I muttered to myself. My avatar – the synthetic one, stood on the bridge, even if I was stuck running the ship from my server banks. I appeared from FTL just a jump away from the Citadel, only to find a squadron of Turian warships – a cruiser escorted by a frigate pack, along with a dozen or so freighters and a myriad of smaller ships simply hanging around a Relay that was locked down.

"Fuck an exhaust port!" I snapped aloud when I sent a ping to the massive structure we were all orbiting, while pointedly ignoring the hails of the Turians. The Relay was locked – God-machine codes.

Well, shite.

I dedicated most of my capacity in cracking the lock down codes, then hailed the Turians.

I knew it was foolish. Probably suicidal too. Most likely all the million or so God-machines were currently busy pouring through the Citadel. There would be no difference I could make. I should blast all witnesses and flee to sit out the cycle.

Yet… I simply couldn't. I couldn't live with myself if I ran away and hid while my people were being destroyed by the Reapers.

With a thought, I purged all the nav data for Quartermaster's location the began overwriting it again and again. By the time I engage the God-machines and am likely destroyed, even if enough remains of my servers for retrieval, it would be highly unlikely that Blacksite would be easily discovered.

"… identify yourself! I repeat, this is Captain Korral Phell of _Menae's Blade._ Unknown Dreadnought, identify yourself!"

"Turian ships, this is Protean Dreadnough _Vengeance._ Be advised, the Citadel is likely under attack by overwhelming forces. I intent to provide assistance."

A short pause followed. I'm sure they didn't expect that answer.

"Just who are you, _Vengeance_?" The Turian captain asked.

"I'm the last of the Protean people, Captain Phell. I came bringing a warning for the species of this cycle but now it appears I'm far too late. I recognize the codes used to lock down this Relay. They belong to the same things that destroyed the Protean Empire."

"Do you expect me to believe that?! I can't allow an unknown dreadnought to reach the Citadel!" Phell's voice sounded strained. At least that's how I chose to interpret the harmonics that my translation software missed.

"Captain Phell, you're well in range of my secondary batteries, which are more than formidable enough to gut your ships, yet you're unharmed. If I was hostile, intent on attacking the Citadel, you would be already dead."

It wasn't particularly diplomatic, but well. It wasn't like diplomatic training had been something I've received. By the time I entered the stage, the time for such niceties had been long past. There were just the Protean with a few of their still surviving client races and the God-machines and the extinction they represented.

"I estimate cracking the code in sixty standard seconds. Then I'll proceed to the Citadel and engage what I believe to be impossible odds. I recommend that you alert the Turian fleets about the storm that's upon us all. I'm sending you tactical data on the expected enemy. I recommend you share it with your superiors before you follow me through. It might make a difference in the long run."

I sent the data package – one I've originally compiled for the Council itself, well at least the portion on the God-machines capabilities, perceived numbers and favored tactics. Well, I sent it on an open channel. Even if none of the Turian ships made it and they didn't forward it to their fleet fearing a cyber attack, hopefully some of the civilians was going to do so.

At the very worst, that data might see a few less God-machines during the next cycle.

It was one long and silent minute as far as the Turians were concerned. The civilians on the other hand, were freaking out, because most of them did hear the exchange.

" _Vengeance_ be advised, we'll follow you through to the Citadel. If this is some kind of trick..."

"I hope for all our sakes that I'm mistaken and the Reapers aren't here in force yet. Because if they've arrived, we're jumping to our doom." I shot back.

The last code cracked under my various algorithms – both Protean and much older and even more advanced. I sent a data burst to the Relay and watched it lit up as the lock down was lifted. A thought brought my engines to life and my Eezo core surging. Then reality shifted and I was subjected to the surreal feeling of a Relay jump.

Just before I left, I detected the Turian ships form up to follow me.

 **=GS=**

 **Destiny Ascension**

 **Citadel Fleet Flagship**

 **near the Citadel**

 **Widow System**

"We can't hold for much longer!" Captain Tulius, the highest ranking commander still alive in the Turian contingent of the Citadel fleet reported.

Three hundred Geth ships, most of them fortunately frigates, had surged from the Relay, screening five super dreadnoughts larger than Destiny Ascension herself. If the ease with which they were cutting through any ship that came into range, they were more powerful too.

There were no communications or demands. The enemy had simply came screaming at flank speed, blowing up any civilian or military ships unfortunate enough to find herself in their way. The Citadel fleet itself didn't fare much better. A quarter of the fleet was caught out of position and overwhelmed in the first minutes of the engagement. The rest didn't fare much better...

The only saving grace of this hell was that the Citadel's arms had closed before the Geth reached the station. That would buy the citizens and C-Sec a bit of time, for all that was worth it. There were hundreds of troop transports screaming for the Citadel and Matriarch Livia – the Asari who had the dubious honor of presiding over this disaster had nothing left to sent after them.

The Citadel fleet, or more precisely what was left of it had been pushed back from their charge in a short and vicious battle that lasted no more than twenty minutes… and already half her forces were gone with third again damaged to various extent. The only reason she hadn't suffered more casualties was that two of those monstrous ships had headed straight for the Citadel, while the rest were merely content with backing up the smaller Geth but mostly staying behind their lighter escorts.

From what little Matriarch Livia saw of their capabilities, she was glad that they were content ignoring her fleet for as long as she didn't attempt to relieve the Citadel. If those squid like ships had pressed the attack, they would have decimated what was left from her forces.

The sad truth was that Livia simply lacked the numbers or firepower to stop the enemy. Even worse, the comm boys leading to the Relay and ensuring communication with the rest of the galaxy were destroyed. As if that was not enough, the Geth had somehow locked down the Relay itself too – the Matriarch found that out when she detached a frigate pack to raise the alarm and summon reinforcements. They reached a dark structure, that refused to allow them to jump out of system.

The only silver lining was that the Council managed to evacuate the station before it was cut off by the enemy. They were quite lucky to be picked up by an Alliance stealth frigate when a swarm of enemy fighters almost blew their shuttle out of the sky on their approach to the already engaged fleet. Even now, the three most powerful people in the galaxy were observing the battle from the human ship, which was hiding in the sensor shadow of Livia's command.

Unfortunately, none of them had anything helpful to add besides ordering her to resolve the situation – something she wasn't physically capable of doing.

"Matriarch, the Relay is activating!" Captain Ferrina, the frigate pack leader near the structure announced. While her transmission was quite weak and wreaked with static from enemy jamming, the distance to the Relay was close enough that the frigates could still break through.

"By the Goddess!" Livia exclaimed feeling a profound sense of relief. "Get out at first opportunity and summon help!" She repeated her

Apparently the transmission was intercepted by the enemy, because one of the huge dreadnoughts disgorging troop transports at the Citadel suddenly made a turn that would have sheared in half any known ship in the universe and headed straight at the Relay. It was almost immediately followed by a small flotilla of Geth ships.

On the down side, the rest of the enemies decided to stop playing and began accelerating towards the Citadel ships.

"All units, fall back! Keep the range open! Normandy, I want you ready to evacuate the Council out of system." Livia ordered. "Keep targeting enemy cruisers and frigates, we don't have the firepower to take on those dreadnoughts in any reasonable time frame."

A stream of acknowledgments followed over the next few seconds.

Geth ships continued to die, yet they reaped a frightful harvest of their counterparts in return. The enemy was proving at least as advanced as the best Livia had under her command – that would have been bad enough. However with those black ships in play, the Citadel forces never really stood a chance. Especially when they were caught out of position by an unknown enemy.

A crimson lance – the frightful energy weapon favored by the enemy dreadnoughts – speared through _Palaven's Pride_ , captain Tulius' ship. It simply blew through the cruiser's kinetic barriers as if they weren't there and shattered the armor with equal ease. The beam cut the ship nearly in two before it could take no more punishment and blew up, lost with all hands.

Those weapons were the final nail in Livia and her people's coffins. Only her Destiny Ascension could survive a hit from those things, and that was primary because of the range. The Matriarch's dreadnought was at the back of the fleet, providing much needed fire support for the cruisers and frigates that were the backbone of the Citadel defense.

Unfortunately, the range was falling fast as the enemy advanced. Livia was losing ships fast and the conclusion wasn't lost on her. Two, perhaps three minutes and the enemy would be in knife fighting range, then those squids were going to carve up what was left of her fleet.

The battle was already lost, along with the Citadel. All that was left for the Matriarch was to ensure that the Council would make it out of the system.

Livia stared at the tactical plot. A suicidal counter attack to pin the main enemy force in place, then detach the frigates and hope they would be able to distract the remaining enemy ships long enough for the Normandy to break through and pass through the Relay.

The Matriarch opened her mouth to give her last orders, when the Geth formation shifted. Two thirds of their cruisers and frigates poured on ever more speed and adjusted their trajectories as they continued their charge.

However, the rest and more importantly, all three dreadnoughts that were coming to kill her suddenly turned as fast as they could and raced towards the Relay. Only the one remaining next to the Citadel didn't move.

"What in the name of the Goddess..." Livia whispered.

Even if reinforcements were somehow coming through right now – enough of them to mandate such a response, it would have been wiser to knock out what was left of the Citadel fleet and then move in to intercept them. Unless…

"We're no threat." The Matriarch whispered.

"Ma'am the Geth are coming in on collision vectors!" The sensor operator exclaimed.

"Evasive maneuvers! Shoot them down!" Livia snapped. "And give me a sensor feed on the Relay. I want to know what go such a reaction from the Geth!"

 **=GS=**

 **CIC**

 **Menae's Blade**

 **in transit**

"Are you sure about that, sir?"

Captain Phell glanced at his XO. The man was most vocal about not allowing the unknown dreadnought in the same system as the Citadel. To tell the truth, Korral wasn't happy about it. However, whoever was in charge over there was right – even the secondaries of such a beast were more than capable of shredding his small task force before they could do anything to that behemoth.

More concerning was the tactical data it sent before jumping. Phell had it isolated to a stand-alone system before opening the files. He as able to skim just a few of them and they were more than enough to chill his blood. It was tale of war on a scale that dwarfed both the Arachnid wars and the Krogan rebellions put together. If it was to be believed, it told about the fall of the Protean Empire – a galaxy spanning polity that put the Citadel Council to shame.

Seeing just a tiny fraction of that transmission made Phell glad that he left a frigate behind so they could raise an alarm and potentially sent the date to Palaven – once they were reasonably sure that it wouldn't compromise the Fleet systems.

"Sure? Not really. Yet – it wasn't like we could stop that vessel by ourselves. Nor slow it down really even if we all survived long enough to ram it. However, being at its back if it turns hostile might be beneficial. Between us and the Citadel fleet we should be able to take it down if…" Phell's mandibles twitched. He was continuing to skim through the data as he spoke. "Between us, I surely hope this is some kind of stunt or a trick. Because if this is genuine..." He pointed a talon at a holographic image of what apparently the Proteans called a Reaper, "Then may the Spirits protect us because we're in for the toughest fight the Hierarchy has ever seen."

"We're about to exit the transit." The helmsman reported.

"Just in case someone has forgotten – battle stations. The moment we're out I want a sensor sweep of the system and a channel open with the Citadel fleet. If our big friend ever twitches a targeting sensor our way, I want you ready to nail it with everything we have. However, if someone opens fire at that thing unless it does so first or under my orders, I'll space your worthless carcass myself." 

"If that happens, you'll have to just nag us all in the afterlife." The XO quipped.

"Why, you don't think we can survive a point blank engagement with the single biggest damn dreadnought we've seen?" Phell chuckled grimly.

"Transition in ten, nine..."

"Look alive people!" The Captain ordered.

 _Menae's Blade_ shuddered lightly as if exited the mass effect tunnel between the two Relays.

"We're good. Drift is three fifty KPA." The helmsman reported.

"Captain, we're detecting a some debris." The sensor operator reported.

"Can't connect with the comm buys. Troubleshooting and trying long range comms." The Comm LT added her two credits.

"By the spirits..." The sensor operator exclaimed. He pressed a few buttons and the tactical display projected in the middle of the CIC updated.

There were a lot of debris leading from the Relay all the way up to the Citadel. The latter had its arms closed and was under assault. There was a Spirits damned big, squid shaped ship coming towards the Relay. Another one was parked right on top of the station, and there was a space battle on going not too far from the seat of galactic government with three more of those oversized dreadnoughts present.

"The… Protean wasn't fucking with us." The XO grunted. "I sure wish he had."

"So its seems old friend. Detach two frigates to go raise the alarm and summon to us any warship close enough, we're going to need them. Hail the _Vengeance._ We're going to act as escorts. I don't think we're going to be killing one of those black ship by ourselves."

The state of the Citadel fleet – being pushed back away from the Citadel and being much smaller than it should have been told Phell that much.

"We've got _Vengeance_ calling." The Comm operator spoke.

" _Menae's Blade_ , escort will be appreciated. I'll concentrate on the Reapers, please keep any small flies out of the way and try not to get hit by the tentacle monsters. My scans indicate than none of your ships would survive a single hit from their primary weapons."

"Captain, enemy is moving!"

"I can see that LT." Phell said. " _Vengeance,_ I don't think that this is for our benefit. Do you have history with those people?"

Now the tactical plot was showing four of the five enemy dreadnought along with about a third of their smaller ships heading towards the _Vengeance_ and incidentally Korral's command.

"You can say that. My class of ships was responsible for killing more of those bastards than anything else in existence. At least that's what we believed during our war." The Protean announced proudly. "They kinda hate us for that." He added in an amused tone.

" _ **Abomination, you're too late. The Cycle can't be stopped."**_ A new, synthetic sounded voice came over the comms.

"Captain, that's coming over all frequencies!" The Comm operator sounded peeved at that.

"I guess they really don't like our new friend." Phell snorted.

"Machine. I see only five of you." The Protean shot back. "When you attacked the Protean Empire you swarmed over the Citadel and most of our highly populated worlds. Yet, here you're – assaulting a _sealed_ the doorway. I guess someone else of my people survived long enough to fuck up your plans."

"Sir, we're receiving a tight-beam transmission from _Vengeance._ Patching him through."

"Captain Phell, if you have to engage one of the Reapers, target its tentacles – it has built hydromagnetic weapons inside. Your best bet is fighter and frigate deployed disruptor torpedoes just as it prepares to shoot. Be advised, that tactic has a high casualty rate – fifty plus percent, however its your best bet to damage a Reaper. May your gods be with you because today we walk in hell. _Vengeance_ out."

"Well, isn't this a great bit of news." The XO grumbled.

"If practical, let's leave the big boys to the Proteans." Phell deadpanned.

"So that leaves sixty or so smaller ships that are coming with those three dreadnoughts..."

"Yep. It's going to be a fair fight." The Captain chuckled grimly.

"Sir, we're receiving a garbled transmission. Codes read _Destiny Ascension."_

"Put them through." Korral responded instantly.

"…arzss…"

"Can you clean it up?" Phell frowned.

"I'm working on it, sir!" The Comm operator answered.

 **=GS=**

 **Bridge**

 **Normandy SR-1**

 **Widow System**

"Affirmative, Matriarch Livia. We'll do our best." Captain Anderson answered.

"May you find peace in the embrace of the Goddess." Councilor Tevos, who was standing nearby added before the transmission was cut.

"Joker, we're breaking out. Follow our escorts in and try not to get hit." The Captain ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir. You better strap in. I'll have to go wild."

"I hope he really is almost as good as he think he is." Shepard muttered.

"He actually is." Anderson said. "There are seats in the conference room." The older human pointed at a door at the back of the bridge. "Shepard, you're with the Council and the Specters. Do what you have to keep them in one piece. If you excuse me, I have a ship to fight."

"Sir!" Marcus snapped a salute. "This way."

"Boss, you won't believe this!" Joker exclaimed. "Check the long range sensors!"

Anderson frowned and went to the tactical display replacing the galaxy map in the center of the bridge. He tapped a few buttons and the image shifted, showing the next scheduled surprise for the day.

"What in the name of the Goddess is that thing?!" Tevos exclaimed.

"We're getting a transmission, all frequencies."

" _ **Abomination, you're too late. The Cycle can't be stopped."**_

"What the hell is that?" Anderson barked a question.

"It's coming from the dreadnought that went back towards the Relay. I guess we can all see what its aimed at." Presley added from his position. The navigator was looking over the shoulders of the sensor operators.

The what, was another massive ship – even bigger than the black ones that were attacking the Citadel. The newcomer was quite different – no tentacles, a more conventional blade styled design… and it was the biggest mobile ship any of them had ever seen.

"We're receiving another all channels transmission. You'll really want to hear that..." This came from Kaidan Alenko who was assisting Joker and apparently monitoring the comms too.

" _This is Protean Super Dreadnought Vengeance. The attack on the Citadel is led by Reaper forces. Their objective is taking control of the station and bringing the rest of their armada from Dark Space. The Citadel itself is a conduit that facilitates such travel – they used the same strategy as opening gambit in their war against us. Under no circumstances the Reapers can be allowed to succeed. Doing so will allow them to overwhelm your fleets with sheer numbers and firepower. If that happens you will suffer the fate of my people – extinction. I repeat..."_

Utter, shocked silence met those word. The sheer impossibility simply froze everyone that heard them in place.

 **=GS=**

 **Protean dreadnought Vengeance**

 **Widow system**

I left my hastily crafted message to loop, hoping that whoever was in charge of the surviving local forces would listen and contact me so we could coordinate.

Yet, that wasn't an immediate concern. I had a God-machine to kill and it was entering effective range. I smiled when my targeting sensors were able to burn through its ECM… though it was mostly supercilious. The surrounding space clean of obstruction and even if everything else failed, good old fashioned optical targeting would have been sufficient. Still, anything I gained on how the Reapers had altered their defenses since the last war would help me in future engagements.

I shifted my vector a tiny bit, aligning my spinal guns with the incoming God-machine. It began jinking in an attempt to spoil my aim. It might have been marginally successful against a mere targeting VI or mass accelerator rounds – there was still a time to generate a miss despite our great velocities.

My spinal guns along with most of my armaments were particle canons. The rest were either laser point defenses of disruptor torpedoes.

"Boom." My synthetic body whispered.

Four beams made of compressed particles shot from my spinal guns and struck the approaching God-machine practically instantly. That Reaper was tough. The most durable and dangerous class the enemy possessed.

It survived the colossal energies I unleashed upon it, yet even its monstrous barrier wavered. The machine shot back, sending lances of molten metal from its two front tentacles. They splashed harmlessly upon my forward shields and for a brief moment I was wreathed in a corona of rapidly cooling metal.

My second salvo broke through and carved deep gorges in its upper plating. The God-machine tried to evade, diving to go pass under me. Thanks to our great approach speed, I had time for only two shots from my primaries, before it left the firing arc. More concerning was the fact that the second shot should have gutted it - God-machines in the last war rarely survived my second salvo

It didn't matter. The Reaper flew right into the sights of twenty twin linked turrets that were covering the front part of my belly. Forty particle beams converged on the God-machine and its barriers were down. Still, the sapient machine rotated so it could bring to bear all its tentacles mounted weaponry and disperse the damage. Combat lasers and streams of molten metal lashed my shields.

My secondaries were carving it up, yet the God-machine finished its rotation. Two tentacles were cut off, then a third, but the remaining managed to give me a single salvo before my return fire could slice them off.

Unfortunately for the Reaper, I was built to survive such punishment and more. My shields held.

It died.

It was a good to see another God go to the abyss again. Even if its been a very long time since I was flesh and blood, I still could feel pleasure and there hadn't been anything more enjoyable than blowing up another Reaper.

There were three more two and half minutes out and then the one next to the Citadel they were obviously protecting.

I frowned.

"Captain Phell, can you raise the Citadel defense fleet. We need to know if there is a Reaper inside or just the four remaining."

"I'm trying but we're currently being jammed. My comm officer is working on it." The Turian answered. After a brief pause he asked a pointed question: "Who do I need to kill to get one of these guns installed on my ship?"

"I'll be providing advanced weapons designs if we make it out. There are some nice things in the data-package I sent you too."

"Really? And you just gave it to us?" The captain sounded incredulous.

"That ship I just killed? That was a Reaper. Ever after all we killed during our war, there are probably close to a million left in Dark Space waiting for the Citadel to be activated so they could pour through and kill everyone. Besides its not like there's a Protean Empire left to make use of those designs..." I added quietly.

"I'll admit I'm seeing those things and I still find it hard to believe..." Phell trailed off.

"It was the same with the Proteans when the Reapers arrived. I had no such problem – they had been rampaging for centuries when I came into the picture. They simply were out there doing their best to make everyone extinct."

"I see. _Vengeance,_ I've got a channel with the _Destiny Ascension_. The connection is bad but we can understand them. I'm sending you the relevant data."

It took me a few seconds to establish connection and clean it up, but then I could see a tired looking Asari on the other end.

"This is Matriarch Livia. I appreciate your assistance, _Vengeance_. Unfortunately right now we can't do anything for the Citadel. The bulk of the Geth forces are doing their best to ram the remnants of my fleet and they are succeeding too damn often. I've detached my frigates to evacuate the Council and I'm ordering them to assist you."

"This is Councilor Tevos." Another signal came through. I traced it to an empty patch of space nearby a frigate pack that was racing away from the Citadel fleet.

Huh. A stealth ship. While I was built with sensor sensor absorbing coating and had massive heat-sinks to help deny long range detection, that was better than I expected from anyone in this day and age. It was probably a new development or the publically available information was even more out of date than I've assumed. I hoped for the latter – it would mean better armed forces all around.

Unfortunately my scans of Captain Phell's ships disagreed with that assessment. They were inferior in every way to equivalent Protean designs.

"Can you confirm that you're a Protean? What about those Reapers? Why are they attacking us?"

Really? I already transmitted the most important points. Repeatedly. It took me few seconds of pondering to reach a likely conclusion

This Tevos and the rest of the Council… They were politician. _Peace time_ politicians. Not a kind I had ever dealt with. The few politicians we had left in the Empire were as much soldiers and warriors as the rest of us who were still alive. Being anything else wasn't conductive to ones survival.

This made thinks more… _interestin_ _g_ and certainly more frustrating.

"This is _Vengeance._ I repeat – the forces attacking you are led by Reapers. Those are the five, well now four, tentacled ships you can see. They're a synthetic life form that attacked the Protean Empire approximately fifty thousand years ago. Their objective is the elimination of all advanced life – just as they did with all space-faring species known to the empire. There was no declaration of war. We were not aware of their existence until they attacked. As well as we've been able to establish while we've been fighting for our survival, their attack upon our Empire wasn't the first of its kind. They appear to be operating on a cycle repeating itself every fifty thousand years. Unless we stop them from gaining control of the Citadel and bringing the rest of their kind here, we're all dead. Is this clear enough summary of the situation, Councilor Tevos?" I almost snapped at the woman.

Three God-machines and seventy smaller – Geth – ships were converging on my position. Their formation was expanding, preparing for and englobment maneuver. The Reapers themselves were at the back, using their thralls as live shields.

Their tactic was obvious – get away from my forward firing arc as fast as possible then swarm me and take me down before I could eliminate all God-machines in system. It simply wasn't going to work if I didn't have to keep them away from the Citadel. Unfortunately, my tactical options were limited… and the Reaper near the station was maneuvering in order to keep the structure between us.

That was going to be tricky. Well, I couldn't rely on the bastards being idiots. Arrogant – hell yeah. Foolish – not likely.

The first Geth entered extreme firing range and received a particle beam for its troubles. It was no reaper and a mere cruiser at that. My beam lanced through its defenses and effortlessly sliced off the ship's front third cleanly. That was more than enough for the stress of high speed flight as well as the energy transfer from my weapon and the cruiser's own debris to shear it to pieces.

A moment later the rest of the enemy fleet was in range and I let loose a salvo from my primary guns.

Four new stars were born amid the Geth formation and the same number of ships died.

Then another quartet vanished from space. And another…

 **=GS=**

 **Conference Room**

 **Normandy SR-1**

 **Widow System**

"This could be some kind of tick..." Valern muttered. The Salarian was busy typing in his omni-tool and frowning,

"For what purpose? What's the point of this deception? If you haven't noticed, the Citadel fleet is being torn apart. If it wasn't for this… Protean ship we might very well be dead right now." This was the Turian Councilor to Shepard's surprise.

Spartarus had been Marcus' and humanity's biggest opponent on the Council. It felt somehow wrong seeing the man being the voice of reason while the Asari was the one in denial this time.

"While convenient, anyone who could build such ships doesn't really need this kind of deception. Further – this would be one very expensive trick. Already one dreadnought destroyed and the probable Protean ship about to engage a whole fleet with just a cruiser and a handful of Turian frigates as escorts." Two huge eyes looked at Spartarus.

In fact, everyone in the room was staring at the Turian.

"I know nothing about that! This is the first time I hear about any live Proteans or super dreadnoughts!" The man waved his taloned hands in denial.

"As far as STG knows, that's the case." Valern added.

"Does it really matter right now?" The only other Salarian in the room asked.

Shepard looked at the small alien – Bau or something and a Spectre to boot.

"Possible deception yes. Mostly irrelevant in the short term. Citadel still under attack and no matter the enemy objective it needs to be protected. Unfortunately the Citadel fleet is in no state to help anyone." Bau activated his omni-tool and a holographic display activated over the back wall. It showed sensor readings from the Normandy and how the hell did he have such access?

The picture wasn't pretty – the Geth were swarming the Citadel fleet, which was dying. The Destiny Ascension still stood proudly – a rock anchoring the fleet's formation. It was mostly intact only because cruisers and frigates were sacrificing themselves to intercept enemy kamikazes.

The Spectre looked at his species' Councilor.

Valern took a deep breath as he stared at the dying fleet. "All right. You have authorization. Code Theta-Sigma-Rho..." And a string of a lot of numbers. "STG should already know what's happening and mobilizing a response, however..."

"The Human's fifth fleet is probably the closest heavy formation. Anything else than can get here in time to make a difference is small flotillas or individual ships. Even combined they might not be enough."

"Can you patch Anderson to the STG and can they forward him to the Fifth?" Sheppard asked. "I'm not going to ask how you can do that – Bau's right. Such things don't matter at this time."

"Possible." The Salarians hands flashed over their omni-tools.

 **=GS=**

 **Protean dreadnought Vengeance**

 **Widow system**

" _Vengeance,_ do you have better plan than go straight for their throats? If so it would be good to know in the next thirty or so seconds." The Turian captain hailed me.

"Not really. My original plan was to warn the Council. When I encountered the Relay locked up by Reaper codes that cut down my options. I could either go somewhere and hide until the next cycle, try aiding your combined millitaries and probably fight another losing war or take a long shot."

"What do you meant?" Phell asked.

"Hope that the Reapers hadn't moved in too many of their forces and ram the Citadel while overloading my reactors and core. That would have cut their primary way in the galaxy and hopefully bought you enough time to mount some kind of resistance. The option is still on the table if we can't stop them from coming."

"There are millions of people on the Citadel." The Turian stated, though his tone was neutral and not judging.

"And they're all dead if we can't stop the Reapers. Along with everyone else."

Twenty Geth ships were down and the rest had moved out of my primary weapons arc. They were swarming towards me and screening the God-machines.

I opened fire with all my secondaries and flushed a full salvo of disruptor torpedoes. Given the enemy's headlong charge, the flight time of my birds was short and a lot of them were going to go through the point defense – and that wasn't accounting for my superior ECM and targeting systems.

The Turians appeared from behind me and added their fire. The cruiser's main gun as sending shot after shot downrange in fully automatic mode. It was joined by the frigates, which were busy emptying their disruptor torpedo magazines and flying towards the enemy where they could use their GARDIAN lasers as offensive weapons.

My shields flashed and I was surrounded by a halo of light and radiation as my defenses bled out energy while deflecting or absorbing the incoming fire. Individually the Geth ships were no threat. Under more conventional circumstances, I could have taken on the whole seventy ships by myself and likely won.

The tactical constrains and the presence of the God-machines changed the equation. In the end, the Geth were little more than distraction, though one I simply couldn't ignore. Their fire was slowly draining my shields, their hulls screened the Reapers from my weapons.

They were not stopping or attempting to evade either and coming in ready to ram.

Fuck the God-machines and fuck their indoctrination.

Even dead Geth were dangerous – their wrecks still continued on their previous trajectory and they aimed to intercept my course even as my particle beams carved them to pieces. Chunks of destroyed ships struck my barriers and the Reapers added their weapon fire to the fray.

Luckily for the Turians, everyone was ignoring them, unless they had the misfortune to cross a weapon that simply couldn't bear on me. With the cruiser standing back and bombarding the Geth ships with its primary weapons, that left the frigates in the harms way.

They went in anyway – mass canons and GARDIANs shooting all the way. The enemy retaliated and two thirds of the Turian ships didn't live long enough to pass through the thinned Geth formation.

My counter-fire avenged them and soon only the God-machines were left trailing me. The Geth were either dead or too damaged to keep up. That however put me into a bind – the Reapers were heading towards my engines and my shields were about to shatter under the strain. Even without Geth shooting at me, three God-machines at point blank range could drain my barriers much faster than they could recharge.

My options were cut – I had to either cut my charge towards the Citadel or continue, get my engines shot off and proceed with my initial suicidal plan, because that would be my only realistic option left.

My mind ran over various calculations and options – twenty seconds at best and my shields would be down. I would have a minute at best to decide if I would have to continue with my suicide run or not.

"All friendly forces still active – can we expect immediate heavy reinforcements? If not, my tactical options are limited – I'm about to lose shields and that will leave me to either break away from the Citadel, leaving it in probable Reaper control or proceed, lose my engines in which case I would have to take out the station in a kamikaze run. Please respond, time is running out." I sent out on all channels with enough power to burn through any conceivable God-machine jamming.

Incidentally, the Reapers heard it too and mere seconds later, the one hiding behind the Citadel appeared, heading my way.

Given the distance, the damn thing must have some kind of FTL comms because it had to start moving almost before my transmission reached it to appear in my view when it did. QEC's or something like that?

 **=GS=**

 **Conference Room**

 **Normandy SR-1**

 **Widow System**

"Hell..." Shepard muttered, when the Protean's latest transmission came through.

He and everyone but the Salarians had been busy watching that super dreadnought almost single handedly carve through a whole Geth fleet and emerge unscratched. To do so, that ship had to endure more than enough punishment to destroy the Destiny Ascension at least three times and its barriers were _still_ up. Not for long as the transmission indicated, but well…

"Valern?" Tevos snapped, fear evident in her voice.

It was a sentiment Shepard shared. There were millions trapped on the Citadel. If the Proteans kamikazed it, something that their captain was apparently willing to contemplate, they were all goners. Even that station couldn't survive a dreadnaught plowing at it at high speed and probably detonating its undoubtedly massive core. Even if some of the station remained intact, the same won't be true for the residents.

"STG in contact with Fifth Fleet. Admiral Hacket ready to assist but their Relay is locked down." The Salarian Councilor announced.

"The Proteans were obviously able to override the protection." Shepard interjected. They were here after all, weren't they? "Ask them for assistance and that might dissuade them from ramming the station." Marcus hoped that he was making the right call and that they would listen to him.

"Vengeance, this is Councilor Valern. The Alliance's Fifth fleet is ready to assist but their Relay is locked down. Can you help? And not destroy the Citadel?"

Long seconds passes as the message crossed the void of space and the Proteans made their choice.

 **=GS=**

 **Protean dreadnought Vengeance**

 **Widow system**

For one very, very long second I felt like a bloody idiot. For a Virtual Mind like me, that could be quite a long time.

Of course help was locked out – I've unlocked only the Relay I came through, yet… There was still a chance – if the God-machines were arrogant and hadn't locked down every Relay that could make a jump to the Citadel with a different code.

"Councilor Valern, these are the Reaper codes I broke in order to reach this system. If they had locked all Relays using them, Fifth Fleet can join us shortly."

It was a good thing that except for very long jumps, Relay travel was extremely fast and short. I used some of my attention to check for Firth's location and they were practically next door.

And I was out of time to decide. My primary shields were already down. Fortunately, I was built with secondary array of smaller and much weaker barriers covering vital sectors – like my engines and those were still holding and would for ten more seconds.

I could still do it – ram the Citadel, delay the God-machines and make the last act of a Protean anyone remembered being the murder of millions of innocents, even if it was to save trillions. It would be something that might very well made people ignore my warnings out of spite.

Besides, I wanted to live – to see with my own sensors what my people had achieved… To see my homeworld for the first time as something else than a single picture retained in my memory.

Well, if the enemy started to come through I would have the option of ramming the Citadel – if my engines were still intact.

I dumped all my reserve energy in my inertial dampeners and braced my structure with Mass Effect fields, then activated my emergency thruster and pushed them beyond their safe limits. I shook, _felt_ my superstructure protest the strain. I could hear myself groan as my decks and armor shook, yet held.

My vector changed and I went almost straight up from moving in mild downward angle towards the Citadel.

It was more than enough so I could bring to bear my two killzones – the arcs in which half my secondaries could target – upon a God-machine each. With precision and timing simply impossible for organic, I opened fire upon the enemy. _Deadly accurate fire._

The Reapers battered barriers held for two point three seconds under my onslaught – all thanks to them desperately rotating and having secondary shields just like me. Then their defenses popped like a soap bubble and the God-machines simply flew apart as they sliced themselves to pieces under my beams.

The machines lasted longer than they should have – I made a note for later analysis.

Three down, two to go.

However, I could no longer escape unscratched. My secondaries were venting heat and recharging. My barriers were down, leaving me to lash at the Reaper upon me with my point defense and disruptor torpedoes.

Hydraulic-magnetic blasts struck my armor plating, lasers burned the ablative covering. I lost a turret, then a point defense cluster and a pair of torpedo tubes, while rotating to disperse and lessen the damage. The enemy barrier held – my lasers did little damage to the God-machine's defense.

The torpedoes were a different matter. We were practically at point blank range. Even point defenses guided by machine intelligence couldn't stop all I was throwing at it. The Reaper's laser clusters were simply overwhelmed and the survivors from my first salvo went in.

Its barrier was even better against this kind of onslaught than I remembered. A God-machine fifty thousand years ago would have lost its shields to so many torpedoes. The enemy had optimized or upgraded at least in that way too.

Yet the barrier fluctuated. The second salvo breached it and two leakers wasted themselves upon the secondary defenses.

I lost another turret, a sensor cluster and a shuttle bay – the latter was simply wielded shut until I could be repaired.

If there was one weakness to my secondaries – it was the massive heat buildup and the need to vent it before being able to shoot again if I let a beam fire for too long. That was usually mitigated by not slugging it out with whole fleets without escorts or letting God-machines reach point blank range without having proper support. Because if that happened, I could be in trouble.

My turrets that had been shooting less often than the rest finished vented and recharging. I lashed at the Reaper with particle beams, burning through its remaining barriers. Twin linked lances of yellow tinted energy carved chunks of armor and a salvo of disruptor torpedoes went in – most of it hitting home as my attack had taken out enough laser clusters to permit it.

Huge pieces of armor plating were shredded by wildly rotating Mass Effect fields and two tentacles were torn apart. The God-machine retaliated, and I was forever thankful that while I could feel the wounds it inflicted upon my hull, I simply didn't feel pain. While unpleasant, losing contacts with sectors of my exterior wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Besides, I've suffered much worse damage before.

The God-machine tried to ram me and it came firing all the way. Section of my armor buckled, some held, others finally shattered under the onslaught and opened a few of my decks to space.

Then it was all over as more than a dozen particle beams came online almost at the same time and I unleashed them upon the Reaper. There was no evasion at this range. Its damaged armor proved practically useless and my barrage bit deep into its body.

I could hear the God-machine scream over all channels then it simply blew up as its Mass Effect core and power plants were breached in the same time.

The shock-wave and ensuring debris struck me like a shotgun blast, disabling point-defenses and jamming a pair of turrets. Not to mention that the stress further compromised damaged section of my armor.

Just one more. While I had been keeping tabs on the last Reaper in order to avoid any unpleasant surprises, most of my attention had been concentrated on the most present danger.

The remaining God-machine had slowed down when it became apparent that it would face me alone. That gave enough time for most of the remaining Geth ships to break away their attack on the Citadel fleet – something that left the Council's flagship and a handful of cruisers and frigates heavily damaged but still alive. The ensuring battle group – a sixty odd vessels and a lot of fighters – something that didn't assault me until now, were moving towards me in a diffuse formation. Most of the Geth cruisers had built a phalanx and interposed themselves between me and the God-machine. All their frigates were on the flanks – no doubt ready to unleash their disruptor torpedoes in my sides and then ram me.

With my barriers down and damaged enough that I wouldn't be able to bring them to more than ten, perhaps fifteen percent before they were upon me, that assault might very well succeed.

Huh. I didn't figure that my second, or was this third, lease on life would end so fast or in such a way.

Or perhaps not…

I hadn't really paid much attention to the Council's frigates – I had a VI tracking them. Talk about tunnel vision. Twenty frigates were forming into an escort position along with the two damaged, but still very much active Turian ones that came with _Menae's Blade._ The cruiser itself was positioning on my right flank, with its brood right behind her.

" _Vengeance,_ this is Commander Aidan Korintus of the _Errant._ We're ready for battle."

"It's good to have you commander. I'll concentrate on the enemy Reaper and cruisers. Please keep the frigates and fighters away, especially from the following sectors..." I used a tight beam to inform my brand new escorts where I was damaged and vulnerable. It wouldn't take the enemy too long to figure it out, but any moment that they weren't targeting those areas would be godsend.

The VI monitoring my long-range sensors binged me with news of activity at the Relay. My non-existent blood ran cold or so I felt despite possessing no flesh nor bodily fluids. If those were God-machine reinforcements I would be left with no recourse but ram the Citadel and hope for the best.

There were a lot of ship coming and at least four were in dreadnaught range – kilometer or so. It was obvious that they weren't known Reaper designs, nor Geth. In fact, those were no ships I've seen in person and thanks to the Citadel's fleet composition, I was already familiar with Turian, Asari and Salarian designs. In fact, those were ones I've only seen in intercepted Extranet data – Alliance ships. A whole fleet worth of them.

Seconds after their arrival, I got a transmission on Citadel channels that were provided by both Captain Phell and the Council when they called.

"This is admiral Hacket of the Alliance's Fifth Fleet. Any Citadel forces, please respond. We request a status update and confirmation on the enemy ships present in system."

Well, that changed the situation significantly. The remaining God-machine thought so too. When it detected Fifth fleet, the enemy's behavior changed once again. Most of the Geth obviously redlined their engines and hurled themselves my way. Ten cruisers remained to screen the Reaper, who headed straight towards the Relay and the still arriving Fifth fleet. It apparently decided that the odds of my destruction were low and that nothing it could do, besides potentially crippling the Alliance force and thus slowing the deployment of aid to the Citadel would change the outcome of this battle. If we were unlucky, even taking out that God-machine wouldn't be enough and the very least we would have to destroy the station to prevent the Reapers from showing up in force.

That left me with a choice to make – it was obviously that the enemy had upgraded their defenses after our war – probably in a response to my kind's existence. That sole God-machine might be able to crush the Fifth fleet, depending on exactly how much and what kind of firepower they possessed. I could go after it, if one of the Geth didn't go lucky and crippled me with a kamikaze run. Or I could had for the Citadel and be ready to take it out if God-machine forces succeeded in taking control and bringing the rest of the enemy.

It was to risk galactic annihilation or watch my own people face a foe they had no concept of and get slaughtered.

Did I mention how much I loathed the God-machines.

There was really no choice to speak of.

"Fifth Fleet, admiral Hacket, this is Vengeance. Your best bet in taking out or at least driving out the Reaper is in mass disruptor torpedo strikes. Be advised, the enemy has very efficient point defense and barriers resistant to the torpedoes. Still it's your best bet."

"Affirmative Vengeance. We have just the medicine the doctor prescribed."

On my long ranged sensors it looked like three of the Alliance dreadnoughts spontaneously exploded, though they were still there moments later.

Those were bloody carriers. Hopefully chock full with fighters and bombers loaded with disruptor torpedoes.

The Fight might actually have a chance.

"Commander Korintus, be advised – once the Geth force is eliminated, I'm moving onto the Citadel and will be ready to take it out if enemy ground units take control of it and it appears that they will bring the rest of the Reapers. I would appreciate it if you assist the Fifth fleet after we're done here."

"Negative Vengeance, we have orders to stick with you." The Turian shot back.

"Just in case I go rogue and engage the Citadel without provocation or something?" I asked. It was a reasonable fear, however even a thirty frigates weren't too dangerous to me – unless they were coming for collision at fuck the engines acceleration and almost relativistic velocities. At least the Geth wouldn't be able to get too fast before reached me or the situation would be truly fucked up.

While we all were hurling for one last confrontation in space, my sensors detected a single frigate – the human one I believed to be holding the Council heading straight towards the Relay. They would make it about a minute or so before the God-machine engaged the Fifth fleet and even if it broke through and went after them they should have enough time to reach a system with a friendly fleet.

Even if everything went to hell here, the galaxy would have its heads of government intact and they would have seen firsthand what the Reapers could do. That had to count for something, right?

Time was up. The Geth were in range and at those speeds engagement time would be mere seconds. All my weapons were primed and already firing, with salvos of disruptor torpedoes leaving my launchers in a sprint mode. I had time for a single shot from my primaries and then the enemy was too close. My secondaries opened up, followed three seconds later by my point defense.

The Citadel frigates did their best, adding their firepower to the withering barrage I was unleashing.

It wasn't going to be enough. The enemy was suicidal – ready to die just to strike a blow against me and there were enough of them to guarantee that at least a few would come through.

I ignored the incoming torpedoes – they would create minimal damage compared to the mass of a whole ship striking as one.

Geth ships blew up, others were cut to pieces or simply shattered when my missiles went home. The friendly frigates helped and I was constantly maneuvering to avoid as much of the incoming debris as possible.

While I was probably the most maneuverable dreadnought around – despite being the biggest too, avoiding everything simply wasn't in the cards. I could see the pieces and reasonably intact hull coming. I could blast them, slice them, deflect or even vaporize them. I could also see some that I simply couldn't avoid no matter what I did.

What I could do was interpose my armored nose and mostly intact upper section in the way of the onslaught. First came the torpedoes and smaller chunks. They made my barriers flare and fail. I kept the secondary ones down until the last possible moment, absorbing smaller hits that cracked my armor, though it mostly held.

Despite all my efforts, I was a big target. A mostly intact cruiser was hit by three twin particle beams a moment before it slammed into my midsection. My shots somewhat lessened the impact, yet it wiped my weaponry in that sector, blew through the armor and bit deep into my decks slashing through thirty of them before finally stopping. Next came a whole, miraculously intact frigate that plowed into my armored nose. My secondary barriers absorbed a lot of the energy, though the resulting impact turned most of the Geth ship into plasma that slagged my armor and two upper decks, while turning the surrounding ones into furnaces.

I think this was the first and probably only time I was glad that I currently had no crew bar a lot of mechs and repair drones. Those two impacts alone would have killed thousands otherwise.

There were no more large collisions, yet at least two dozen torpedoes and countless small chunks of enemy ships struck my unshielded hull. In the end, eighty percent of the equipment on my upper side was simply gone with half the rest damaged from moderate to critical degree.

I might be crippled but I was still operational.

The same couldn't be said about the ships that volunteered to escort me. Two thirds of the frigates were simply gone – either collisions with enemy vessels or disruptor torpedoes that for one reason or another didn't go after me.

Commander Korintus' ship wasn't among those that made it.

In all that mess, the enemy fighters didn't really register. The small craft tried to swarm me but between the literal firestorm lit up by the firepower thrown around, all the debris and my point defense, the flies simply ceased to exist. Oh, some did collide with me, others launched torpedoes before being burned out, but ten seconds after I was out of the woods, the last Geth ships were gone.

Just in case that enemy platforms had somehow survived the collisions, I sealed everything around my compromised sections and dispatched mechs and drones to keep guard.

One couldn't be too careful after all.

That left only two things – watching Fifth fleet face off against a God-machine and pray that whoever was defending the Citadel itself could hold on long enough to be reinforced.

One way or another it was time for the final acts of this battle and hopefully I would be merely a spectator for them. Anything else didn't bode good for any of us.


	28. A Different Galaxy Phase 1 MEStargate

AN: I've been looking for and failed to find a single Stargate/ME fusion that takes into account even just the big implications of the ME folks actually evolving in a place where naquadah and Eezo coexist, not to mention the effect that's going to have if the Council manages to form and survive in a galaxy dominated by the Goa'uld. Then there are the Reapers if they exist in the first place and heaps of other fun things to consider.

Do you have any recommendations for such stories?

I'm going to start a snippet collection for world building purposes and I might eventually turn it into a full fledged story exploring the topic. For starters, I'm going with a look into the Council and their relationship with the Asgard - something that I'll be expanding later. I'll appreciate any ideas and suggestions on how to mesh the two universes properly together.

Something quite different from both ME and Stargate, the story I'm going to be exploring won't be HFY one. If anything its going to be Turians and a sane Council that isn't a caricature as often portrayed fuck yeah.

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Mass Effect games, nor books, neither any of the Stargate TV series, movies or books. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial aim. I make no money from it.**

 **A Different Galaxy: Stargate/ME fusion**

 **=ADG=**

 **Phase 1. Council woes**

 **21.11.2170 SGD /Standard Galactic Date/**

 **Council Chambers**

 **Citadel Tower**

 **The Citadel**

 **Widow System**

Councilor Tevos walked in and looked around. Four very different beings – in both biology and temperament – sat around a round table placed in the middle of the room.

The Asari paused until one last scan flashed over her confirming that she was indeed the Councilor representing the Republics and wasn't carrying unpleasant gifts – like a Goa'uld, implanted bomb or something more exotic and potentially even more unpleasant. A part of her wished that such paranoia would be unnecessary. Centuries of war followed by the current uneasy ceasefire tended to disagree.

"Tevos, you're just in time!" Kyris – the Salarian Councilor nodded emphatically at her.

The smallest of the people in the room was practically ancient one as far as his people were concerned. The Salarian was pushing forty five; he was still alive and in good health only thanks to cybernetic enhancements and gene therapy developed in the last decade that finally succeeded to increase his people's lifespans a bit. While Kyris gleefully took advantage of that development, he declined to get his scars removed – half his face was a burned off mess after a close encounter wit a plasma weapon during his misspent youth as an active member of the STG.

At least the largest and most troublesome member of the Council approved. Urdnot Bakara sat next to the Salarian making him look like a tiny child. The Krogan female had her scarf laying on the table next to a big cup chock full with some steaming rotgut that would likely kill a lesser being who dared sniff at it much less take a sip. Bakara gave Tevos a toothy grin and waved her to join the other Councilors.

"Finally, someone sane!" A familiar modulated voice came over a slim woman's helmet microphone. This was the newest member of the Council - admiral Shaala'Raan. The synthetic overtones did nothing to hide the Quarian's relief. "All those bosh'tets want to go to war. Like right now!" Raan waved her hands for emphasis. "Because it worked so well in the past." The Quarian grumbled.

"It's just a mater of time before the cease fire ends anyway!" The last being in the room snapped. "We all know the worms are bidding their time and expanding their military!" Councilor Spartarus' mandibles flared in exasperation. He rubbed his face just above the paint proudly declaring his birth of world within the Hierarchy.

"Of course they're!" Raan snapped. "We're doing the same and have the advantage in the long term. The more time we have to fully upgrade our fleets with newly developed technology, the better off we'll be. We know the System Lords can't compete economically with us without breaking their system, not after our last round of expansion is complete anyway! If we act now, more of our people will die for nothing!"

"The humans might disagree." Tevos pointed out amicably.

"Rightly so, however they can't do much." Bakara's deep voice rumbled. "There are only a handful of advanced human civilizations we've encountered. Only the Optricians and the their System's Alliance really counts and they're all busy cleaning up messes back home."

"The Bedrosian resistance is still stirring up a lot of trouble." Kyris nodded. "STG believes they're receiving aid from the System Lords. I've sent teams to investigate."

"Langara isn't much better. Uplifting and well, keeping their three powers from killing each other is going to be a net drain for years to come. At least the Council is doing it the right way this time." Bakara sent a dirty look at the Salarian.

"I'm not going to apologize for what my ancient ancestors did. It was his idiots who actually deployed the Genophage anyway!" Kyris grumbled and pointed his thumb at Spartarus, who groaned.

"Am I interrupting?" A new voice asked from the middle of a flash of light.

"Supreme Commander Thor, its good to see you again." Tevos smiled at the newcomer.

She had to suppress a smirk when she saw her Salarian counterpart face palm at the Asgard's entrance. Kyris had been so sure that the new scramblers would be able to prevent an Asgard from teleproting anywhere near the Presidium, forcing Thor to come in a shuttle like everyone else.

"Councilor Tevos, its a pleasure as usual." Thor gave her a small nod. "Councilors." He looked at the people sitting at the table.

"Supreme commander." Spartarus actually stood up and gave the Asgard a Turian salute – which was display of the respect the Hierarchy held for Thor himself. There weren't many other Asgards who had earned such a place in the Turian's hearts. In fact, Tevos could think of only two more.

When all the pleasantries were exchanged, and everyone was sitting around the table – with Thor simply moving his throne like command seat closer, it was time for the serious talk. The Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleets rarely just dropped by for a chat, not now with his people fighting a bitter war against a synthetic enemy, a war that had been a bloody stalemate for more than a century.

"One of our AIs monitoring the Goa'uld networks got an important piece of intelligence. Ra is going to be vulnerable in a month or so." Thor stated calmly.

Those simple words had the same effect if he had dropped a planet-cracker somewhere important.

"Ra's the one who kept the Goa'uld a credible threat all this time! If we can remove him..." Spartarus warbling laughter echoed through the room. The Turian pointed at Thor. "It was you and your people who allowed us to survive the initial onslaught. Ra did the same for the Goa'uld when we upgraded our space combat technology with your aid. Without him the System Lords might very well turn on each other."

"Ra held them together all this time." Bakara muttered. "He is the sole being responsible for their society changing as much as it did so they could oppose us more efficiently."

"A race they're losing." Raan pointed out. "Is it a good idea of going after Ra now? Time works for us. Give us four to five years and we'll be ready to end this war once and for all. If we remove Ra now, if this is what the Supreme Commander suggests, we might find ourselves fighting another drawn out conflict."

"You're correct, admiral Raan. It is a suggestion. Nothing more, nothing less. We won't be in a position to offer material aid if the war between the Council and the System Lords begins anew. The majority of our own Council is against providing you with any advanced weapons. You actually have a better read on the System Lords at this time. I'm merely presenting you with the data. It will be up to you to decide what to do with it – use it, file it away..."

"Thank you anyway, Supreme Commander Thor. Your gesture is appreciated. What kind of vulnerability are we talking about?" Spartarus asked.

"In thirty two standard days, Ra will be retreating for a short period of rest. As you know, the Goa'uld still control hundreds of worlds they either saw no benefit in industrializing or deemed the expense too much for what they were going to get in return, especially places far away from their centers of power and connected just by the Stargate. Ra's engineers had figured another approach and he'll be overseeing how well its going to work in one of the primitive worlds in his personal domain. A desert planned called Abydos. It has a tiny human population and a single thing of note – a mine producing low grade Naquadah."

"He'll be there in person?" Kyris stood up and began pacing. "Need to think. Consult STG and Spectres… A fleet action? No, no… Infiltration team? Assassination… Might work..."

"Calm down, pyjac." Bakara sighed.

"We'll need to consult our intelligence people and think about the consequences of removing Ra. I can't say for sure what we'll decide. Where exactly is this Abyddos?"

Thor pressed a rune and a sharp holographic image of the galaxy appeared in front of the Councilors. A single dot was blinking green in the galactic south.

"No currently active relays nearby. If we're to do anything, we'll have to dispatch people in the next week to get there in time." Raan said after examining the map for a moment.

"This is my understanding. Please inform us if you decide to move against RA." Thor pressed another rune and vanished.

"You owe me a barrel of ryncol, pyjak." Bakara laughed at the Salarian.

"The new scramblers should have stopped him from doing this!" Kyris whined.

"Asgard." Spartarus shrugged.

Really, that one word was explanation enough.


	29. A Different Galaxy Phase 2 MEStargate

**AN: Here we have a taste of how things on the System Lor** **d's** **si** **de ha** **d change** **d. While in some respects a Jaffa's lot in life is quite** **different, they still have to** **die in job-lots for the Goa'ul** **d ambitions.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Mass Effect games, nor books, neither any of the Stargate TV series, movies or books. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial aim. I make no money from it.**

 **A Different Galaxy: Stargate/ME fusion**

 **=ADG=**

 **Phase 2. An old Prime's morning**

 **=ADG=**

 **25.11.2170 SGD**

 **Prime training academy**

 **Chulak**

Master Bra'tac stood straight and pretended to listen to Ra's speech for the new Prime candidates. The supreme god's "magic" made the man's image float above the old man's desk. Ra's words echoed through the large well lit chamber, dazzling the younger and more gullible Jaffa. All but a handful students in Bra'tac's class were young men deemed intelligent enough to be taught to command. There was a smattering of older faces spread through out the rest. Those were all veterans who earned the chance of becoming leaders of warriors on the battlefield. They were easy to distinguish – all were fully grown up, towering at least a head above their younger brethren. Some had scars they proudly displayed for the world to see, but most importantly, it was the way they carried themselves – they had faced death, knew that seldom their gods were in any position to actually help on the battlefield. A few of them might even be willing to listen to Bra'tac, perhaps even willing to eventually consider treason.

Ra continued to natter about the Goa'uld superiority, about all the good the "gods" did for the Jaffa, which for a change wasn't a complete sack of lies… Ah, here it goes.

 **"Soon my children, our benevolent tolerance for the alien fools will run out! We will raise as one and sweep the unbelievers from the galaxy! We willbring their people the enlightenment of the gods! We will bring them the gift their leaders deny them even now!" Ra roared to the masses.**

While that wasn't the Supreme Lord's best speech – far from it, Bra'tac thumped his fist over his chest in a warrior salute as it was proper. To give the snake his due, no matter what one may say about Ra, the man was charismatic. Even when speaking utter nonsense, both Jaffa and humans tended to listen and believe him.

Ra continued to natter. It wouldn't be long now, before the recording would be over. Bra'tac had to fight not to laugh aloud at the bit of usual propaganda that followed – how the Jaffa were superior warriors thanks to the blessing of the gods, how the really faithful Jaffa could never lose to the dastardly foe…

Anyone who hadn't been indoctrinated from birth would have asked some pointed questions. Like why even now, more than a thousand years later, the Citadel degenerates weren't crushed, their people liberated from the lies of their leaders.

One might also wonder why as often as not, no matter the intention or blessing from the gods, battles both on land and in space were lost…

Bra'tac put a manic grin on his face and shouted his adulation along with everyone in the room at the appropriate time as the speech was ending. Fortunately everyone who saw his face mis-interpreted his expression for one of adulation. Oh, the smile was more or less real, just the reasons behind it was quite different than expected.

The Jaffa Master had been stuck at this job for a second decade in a row. While his position allowed him a chance to influence some among the future leaders of the Goa'uld armies, it was quite boring – something made worse by the constant propaganda he was fed while on Chulak. It was even less fun figuring out how to balance the what was told to the Prime candidates and the reality he had to prepare them for without breaking the belief that their lords and masters were actual gods instead of damned parasites.

As if to emphasize that point, the damn snake he carried in his gut began shifting so it could be more comfortable. Bra'tac sent a mental curse to the Primta which finally settled down by the time Ra's long winded speech was over. He waited for a few moments so everyone could stop cheering the System Lord before walking to stand in front of his desk so he could be closer to the candidates.

"You've all been sent here because you Masters deemed you worthy!" Bra'tac used his best command voice for this. Making a good and memorable first impression was vital in his experience. "You're here because you've shown potential, have the brains and dedication to serve our gods in one of the most important roles they might deign to grant any Jaffa!" He paused and looked over the candidates.

The youths were all preening at the praise. Cocky young fools. The veterans on the other hand were staring at him warily – they were experienced enough to know that an old bastard like him would have at least one, possibly more unpleasant surprises in store for them all.

"You've all heard the proclamations, the battle accounts of glorious victories." The Jaffa Master proclaimed.

There were actually some big Goa'uld victories – that much was true. Bra'tac, in his youth, had been a part of multiple campaigns and some were successful both tactically and strategically. Others failed miserably. Both had something in common – they were either won or lost after oceans of Jaffa blood had been spilled.

"There were defeats too." Bra'tac added quietly enough that the candidate had to lean forward to hear him properly despite the good acoustic in the room. "Some were caused by fools who lacked faith in our benevolent gods. By traitors who spat on all the magical gifts we were given and continue to receive daily!"

As expected, most of the youths began decrying the faithless.

"Silence! You will speak when addressed!" Bra'tac's voice snapped like a torturer's whip. "There is another kind of defeat. One born of hubris. Of the mistaken belief that just because you're faithful servants of our gods, they will intervene and stop you from getting our people killed when you make mistakes. That is not the case!" Bra'tac declared loudly. "You're here to learn to be the best Primes you could possibly be. One of you, if he's talented and lucky enough, might even one day become the First Prime for his god. However, before any of that could happen, you're all mine." The Jaffa Master gave his charges a wide smile. It was mostly genuine too. "You will learn everything the other masters and I have to teach you. You will how our enemies think. What tactics and strategies they like to use. You will know the capabilities of their equipment along with those of our own..." Bra'tac continued his tired and tested speech.

Once he was done, he beamed at the candidates.

"One of the first thing you will learn is that before being a Prime, you'll need to be able to do a regular Jaffa warrior's job at least as well as he can. A few of you already know that. The rest are about to learn. All of you have passed the basic training and have a kernel on knowledge to be built upon." Bra'tac's grin widened until it felt like his face was going to split in two. "Now its time you put those skills to the test. Masters!"

"Jaffa Kreee!" Multiple throats roared from the back of the room.

"Take this bunch and make sure they remember which way to point a staff-rifle." Bra'tac dismissed the class.

He smirked when the combat instructors began corralling the candidates towards the training ground to the east. With this bit of trivia over, he had twenty minutes to prepare for the next class – a second year one covering Turian Cabal tactics and how to oppose them without Biotic Warriors or heavy support to call upon.

That was always a fun class to teach.


	30. Into the fire Worm AU

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worm, it belongs to Widbow. I don't make any money from this story. It is written with no commercial aim in mind. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Into the fire**

 **Prologue 1.1: Kindling**

* * *

 **Winswol High school**

 **Brockton Bay**

"Mom!" Thirteen year old Taylor Hebert beamed when she saw who came to pick her that afternoon.

Annette forced herself to smile when she saw her daughter. Any other day her expression would have been genuine. Today however took all her willpower to keep the worry and fear she felt off her face. Annette strode past small groups of chatting children and hugged her daughter as if her life depended on it… which it very well might. She opened her mind to the Void and it immediately filled with equations that would have made Earth Bet's greatest thinkers heads spin.

For a moment she staggered as her body was filled with power she hadn't touched what felt like ages. Annette hugged her babbling daughter tighter and cast upon her spells that would hopefully keep her safe. No one in the courtyard had the eyes to see chains of purple letters manifest all around Taylor before fading into her thin frame. All the teen could feel was the warmth of her mother's hug. It made her feel loved, safe. _Protected._

The moment passed and Annette released he daughter. She gave her another smile and led her to the waiting car.

"Mom, wasn't dad's day today?" Taylor asked once they were inside.

"Yep. I felt like picking you up. I need to show you something." Annette ruffed her daughter's hair. "It's a secret!" She stage whispered, making Taylor giggle.

Annette drove out into the traffic while keeping a part of her attention on her daughter's excited rambling about her day with Emma. They were halfway to the highway leading out of Brockton Bay, just couple of hours from their destination, when the Void shuddered.

Annette sensed something familiar force its way into this dimension followed by a powerful sensor sweep that felt like wave of a blazing golden light. She hissed a curse so quietly that Taylor couldn't hear it. Equation flashed through her mind, masking spells came to life around the care isolating it from the surrounding world, yet even as the defenses were snapping up, Annette knew it was too little too late.

She couldn't hide herself from the hunter. Taylor on the other hand…

The sensor sweep flashed over the car and Annette was illuminated by it. Her energy signature burned brightly against the golden light. The reaction was like a pillar of flame – a beacon for the hunter to follow. It burned so bright that drowned everything around, saturating it with Annette's signature. It was more than enough to completely mask Taylor's existence from anyone not looking for her.

Annette smiled sadly and drove out of the traffic. She had just a few moments left with her daughter and wanted to make the most of it.

"Mom, why are we stopping?" Taylor asked.

"Hey, Little Owl..." Annette's voice broke when she looked Taylor in the eyes. She released her seat-belt and shifted so she could hug her daughter. "I'll always love you Taylor. I'm sorry..."

"Mom, you're scaring me..." Taylor whispered.

"I'm sorry..." Annette repeated. She removed the silver bracelet she had worn ever since she was little girl and gently placed her on Taylor's left arm. "This will keep you safe, Little Owl." She kissed Taylor's forehead. "Please forgive me..."

Pink light engulfed the whole car. Taylor blinked in confusion. Her head hurt Her whole body hurt.

"Mom?" She whispered.

Her mother was next to her, slumped around the driver's seat which looked wrong. Taylor's mind tried to process what was that red liquid all over her mother, why the other side of the car looked so wrong so… twisted…

"Mom?" Taylor repeated.

The sky outside flashed pink and Taylor knew no more.

 **Prologue 1.2: Fire**

* * *

 **Above Brockton Bay**

Annette flew upon crimson wings made of transparent energy locked into eye-watering geometric forms. She was a kilometer above the ground and rising rapidly, flying to intercept the hunter coming for her. She brushed away the tears streaking all over her face and glared at the dot of golden light approaching her from the north.

The dimension space above Earth Bet was a mess that made it impossible to breach it most of the time. It's ebbs and flows were chaotic, unpredictable. The tides aligned in the right manner to allow entrance just a handful of time every few years. That's why she hid here.

That's why she was sure that if she managed to take the hunter down with her, Taylor would be reasonably safe.

There was a part of her that earned to go home. To take her family and run… yet for all she knew there was nothing left waiting for them but ashes. When she fled desperately trying to lose her pursuers, everything she knew and loved was under attack and about to fall.

Annette couldn't risk going back. She could no longer hide.

All she could do was fight and hope.

Annette gathered her power and smiled when a corona of pink light surrounded her. The approaching hunter slowed down and the golden blaze around them lit up like the rising sun. When she pointed at the enemy, her mind sang with equations and the buzz of the Void.

"Blaze." Annette muttered. A thousand pink dots manifested around her wings. "Lock on. Luminous barrage." A thousand energy beams raced at the hunter, each potent enough to gut a main battle tank.

A hexagonal shield appeared in front of the assassin a moment before he vanished within an expanding cloud of dazzling explosions.

"Barrier." Annette whispered. An opaque silver shield enveloped her a moment before a thick beam of golden energy slammed into her. She was pushed a few meters back from the impact before she could stabilize her flight.

An even dozen spears of blinding light surrounded the hunter and flew at Annette under his control.

"Proton Lance." She retaliated with a cascade of orange energy that swallowed the incoming attacks and continued to race at her tormentor.

A crescent of pure light slashed through the Proton Lance and the energy attack separated into two beams that barely missed their target before continuing on their way. Annette flew above it and glared at the hunter. He was merely two kilometers away now and fast approaching. An ever increasing number of sparkling golden moths began surrounding him and the power levels she could sense around him were increasing with the appearance of every new light.

Annette sighed. He already manifested more power than she could safely wield. Ever since she was wounded during her flight from home, she had been unable to utilize her gifts properly. Annette was locked into her own mind and that simple fact doomed her.

It was obvious that the hunter's skills were at the very least equal to her own and she was certain he had much more experience. She could feel it. Annette knew the outcome was a foregone conclusion since the start, yet she had to try. For Taylor's and Danny's sake if not her own.

Well, there was nothing to it. Annette opened herself to the Void. She shattered all the restrictions in place to protect her from the fury of the higher dimensions. Her implants blazed with more power than they were even meant to channel, much less contain and she raced to meet the hunter. Thousands of golden spears stabbed at Annette and shattered upon a sickly purple shield that she formed with a mere thought. More and more strikes rained upon her lithe form until she could no longer keep the Void shield up and it vanished with an unearthly screech.

A dozen golden spears pierced Annette's body a moment before she struck the hunter and shattered his shield. He tried to fade away, yet all the power emanating from her ruined body disrupted his magic. Her bloodstained lips formed a manic smile as the Void ravaged her mind. The equations controlling Annette's magic became strings of meaningless gibberish. Her implants burned, consuming themselves in pyres that ate at her brain.

Annette laughed.

"Come, burn with me!" She shouted.

The hunter tried to get away. Hundreds of light spears formed around him just to shatter in golden rain as his magic was disrupted again and again. He snarled and his armored suit sent enough energy into Annette to turn an ordinary human into ash.

She laughed.

The Void roared at Annette's last command and a new star was born above Brockton Bay. The hunter screamed as his armor melted and ran away like water upon the wind. Annette was replaced by a human shaped form of plasma as the hungering Void consumed them both, scattering their remains in a dimension where only energy could exist.

The second sun above Brockton Bay blazed with purple light before being consumed by a hungering void. A thunderclap that broke every single window in the city slammed into the Bay before a stifling silence fell upon the stunned city.

 **Prologue 1.3: Into the furnace**

* * *

 **Arcturus station**

 **Fortress System Reach**

 **Outer Rim Nexus**

Thorgin Meinkraft stood upon the bridge of the Assault Vector Dauntless and surveyed the forces under his command. Three whole fleets were gathered into the system. By anyone's reckoning that was a powerful force, one that no one could take lightly or ignore. Nevertheless, all the ships and stationary defenses at Reach were a mere shadow of the armada that once protected the Outer Rim.

It could be no other way, considering that the thousands of systems spread through hundreds of dimensions that made the outer colonies had shrunk to a couple of dozen worlds that now could be reached only from Reach. There were two more fleets spread out and locked into the task of escorting thousands of transports which were frantically attempting to evacuate as many people as they could.

The enemy was coming, launching one last offensive in this sector meant to bind Meinkraft's forces in place. He knew very well that the attack he was meant to stop was a mere diversion, however one he had to meet headlong or write off billons. The Empress orders were clear – hold the Nexus as long as possible and fall back only when the evacuation was complete or the remaining convoys were hopelessly cut off. Only then he was to take out the Nexus and retreat towards the Core Worlds.

Meinkraft closed his eyes, though that didn't stop his flagships tactical AI's from feeding information into his implants and from there into the partition of his brain overseeing the tactical situation. He knew his duty. To the Empire and its people. The Empress' choice was the right one – as much such a thing mattered in the kind of war they were fighting. Yet, all he wanted was to be back by his daughter's side when she was preparing to meet the main enemy offensive which was meant to win the war. A goal that might very well be achieved by the enemy.

The war had went for too long. The Empire was cracking. How could it not be when the war began with a sneak attack and a coup attempt that crippled the armed forces?! The Empire's armies and navies were depleted, tired. The enemy wasn't in much better state, yet the brainwashed bastards would gladly die to the last if it meant victory.

"Multiple dimensional incursions. They're here." Livia, Dauntless primary AI and the Assault Vector's XO, announced.

Raw tactical information was fed into Meinkraft's implants and it took him a moment to make a sense of it. There were breaches opening all over the system. Many were already coming under fire by nearby weapon platforms or battle groups. Yet, there were too few defenders to engage them all.

Breaches which wouldn't be possible if not for the traitors even now fighting for the other side.

Despite the expected enemy numerical superiority in space, it wasn't their navy that Meinkraft feared. It was planet-side where things got truly ugly. The enemy had the capacity to open rifts in the atmosphere and simply ignore the navy and any orbital defenses. That's how they almost won the war twenty years earlier – rifts opened upon a thousand unsuspecting worlds and whole armies more often than not backed up by Continental Siege Units came through before anyone knew they were under attack.

He couldn't keep an ugly snarl from appearing on his face when he saw the same happening on Valencia – Reach's primary populated world. There were still billions of people waiting for free transports to evacuate them to the Core. The two army groups deployed planet-side were going to be hard pressed to hold the line, if they could pull it off in the first place.

Multiple angry red dots blossomed all over Valencia's image in Meinkraft's mind as he watched the enemy make planet-fall.

"Multiple CSUs detected." An AI reported. Seven large red triangles appeared heading towards the primary evacuation centers. Four green ones moved in to intercept them and Meinkraft knew it wasn't going to be enough.

"Tell admiral Lind that she has tactical command of the fleets. The Empress' orders stand – we hold our ground until the evacuation is complete or no longer possible. I'm deploying planet-side." Meinkraft didn't wait for acknowledgment. He accessed his power - a crimson circle surrounded him and deposed him in Dauntless' primary hangar, right in front of a cradle containing his tactical armor.

Meinkraft stepped on the crystal platform and raised his hands. The VI controlling the cradle scanned him and hundreds of codes were exchanged until it was satisfied. A few seconds later, Meinkraft was engulfed by soothing blue light and he felt warm liquid flow over him from his feet up. The smart metal molded in the form of his armor and then melted into him binding itself to his flesh thanks to the nanites infesting every single cell of his body. Meinkraft felt familiar tingle as his skin was replaced with alloy that could absorb incredible amounts of punishment. He grit his teeth as his internal organs were rearranged and changed into something no one would be able to mistake for mere flesh and blood.

When the process reached his mind, the world dimmed. The partitions her ran merged into one. Meinkraft shivered when he was temporarily cut off from the network and was alone in his mind for a brief moment that felt like an eternity. The constant buzz that were the thought of his subordinates, the instances of his own personality he tended to run as a matter of course in order to properly multitask – they were all silent.

Then the change was complete and he got a new status update. A profound sense of relief washed over him once he was no longer alone. Multiple mental partitions came to life and Meinkraft reconnected to the network. The song of the datastream calmed his mind and he sighed in relief.

"Valiant, status?" Meinkraft asked his armor's controlling intelligence.

"Nominal. All systems green, Thorgin. We're ready to deploy."

"Just in time too, old friend."

The imperial CSU's on Valencia were already fully engaged. The ground commander was throwing two whole corps against another one in a desperate bid to slow it down, yet the other two were advancing towards a pair of separate evacuation zones. Wing after wing of aerospace fighters were throwing everything they could at those CSUs, yet they weren't even slowed down.

"Admiral Meinkraft, we just detected an Omega signal. It was weak, with a lot interference, though we managed to get a vector and a relative dimensional coordinates." Livia reported.

"An Omega?" Thorgin muttered. Only members of the Royal family had the implants to release one upon their death.

"I'm sorry sir, it was Lady Annette's." The AI sounded apologetic. "Orders?"

"Send the coordinates to the Empress, priority Black. Send multiple dispatch boats as well." Thorgin grit his teeth. "There are no other orders for the fleets." He hissed. "Valiant, initiate transfer. Put us above Intruder Three."

"Initiating. I'm sorry Thorgin."

"I know my friend. I know." Meinkraft muttered and called upon the Void.

He had believed his younger daughter dead for more than twenty years. Made peace with it a long time ago. Yet, that didn't stop him from hoping for a miracle even if he knew it was pointless. Receiving a confirmation after all this time… it hit him hard. The possibility that Annette had been alive all this time and lost… It used to give him hope on the worst days and there were too many of those to contemplate. Thorgin grit his teeth.

"Sir, are you sure?" Valiant asked.

"Transfer us." Meinkraft snapped.

He would mourn later.

The hangar vanished in a swirl of blue particles and was replaced by burning skies. Thorgin deployed his wings and three sets of ethereal energy constructs unfolded behind his back. They caught his fall and propelled him forward. Valiant accessed the tactical network and displayed their target – a kilometer long monstrosity built to intimidate and destroy. It looked like a twisted living thing with too many fanged slobbering mouths and unsettling angry eyes looking in all directions. It flew upon thick leather wings that could in no way shape or form support its weight, yet they apparently did – if one didn't knew better.

Thorgin smiled mirthlessly. Meinkraft brought his armor's weapons online and released them under Valiant's control while his mid filled with equations and the cold kiss of the Void.

The CSU noticed them and released a psychic scream which would have driven an un-enchanced man insane.

Meinkraft flew straight at the behemoth and the Void itself came with him.

 **Chapter 1: Spark**

 **Spark 1.1**

* * *

 **Highrise drive**

 **Brockton Bay**

Taylor Hebert knew she shouldn't be there. This part of Brockton Bay wasn't safe – it hadn't been ever since the ABB moved in last year. However, today she didn't really care.

Two years ago, this day her mother died here. Somehow Taylor got away from the crash unscratched and unable to remember what happened. The doctors said it was a shock induced amnesia and that she might eventually remember.

She hasn't. Taylor seldom experienced dreams of her mother smiling sadly, leaning to kiss her forehead and then she was looking at her mom's bloody face and the sky was burning. She knew there was something important she was forgetting. At times it was at the tip of her tongue, the memory felt like it was just over there, waiting for her to reach for it, then it was gone and Taylor was left angry and frustrated.

It's been two years since her mom died and she couldn't help it but think that it was somehow her fault. Taylor's mom wanted to show her some kind of surprise. That's why she was driving up this street.

Why did she have to die?! It wasn't fair!

An ear piercing screech of tires came from behind making Taylor cringe and turn around. A large engine roared nearby then a minivan driving down the street simply crumbled around something invisible that struck it in the back like a giant hammer. Taylor stood frozen in place and all she could do was numbly watch as the smashed vehicle flew out of control and headed straight at her.

Taylor don't want to die! That thought flashed through her brain before she instinctively closed her eyes and waited for the van to hit her.

" _Barrier!"_ A chirpy voice announced. Her mother's bracelet grew warmer just before the world ended with the deafening scream of tearing metal and a bang like that of a giant gong that made her head spin.

She shook in fright. Was she dead? Taylor didn't felt the van running her over, yet she certainly heard it.

" _Master?"_ That voice again.

Huh. She didn't feel anything. Taylor dared open her eyes and… She simply stared at a pink force-field that surrounded her. It was made of overlapping hexagons small enough to comfortably fit in the palm of her hand.

"What?" Tailor whispered in disbelief. She could see the van – what was left of it at any rate, warped around the force-field. There had to be a hero nearby, the one who just saved her.

"Fuck it, Squealer, can't you drive straight? Why did you run into that cock-sucking cunt?!" Someone roared from the other side of the wrecked van.

"Uh, Skids!" A woman tried to interrupt the litany of curses.

"Fucking cock..."

"SKIDS!" The same voice shouted.

"WHAT?! Don't you see I'm busy fuck it?!"

"Look behind you. I think that's a new cape!"

"Huh. A shield. It looks like one of those New Wave bitches… Hey! Come over here! Papa Skidmark has something for you!"

Uh, oh. Were they talking about her?! Taylor's eyes widened and her brain finally rebooted. Fuck! Those were Skidmark and Squealer, had to be! She shuddered in revulsion at the implications and stumbled back. Taylor had to get away from them! What were Merchant Capes of all people doing here?!

" _Master, are you all right? My sensors show you're quite agitated!"_ That eery chirpy voice again. Was she going insane? Did she hit her head or something?

Taylor scrambled away from the twisted remains of the van until her back hit a hard surface. She looked for a way out and her eyes fell upon the van's cabin. The windshield was simply gone and… and… There was so much blood… Was that gray thing bone or brain?

The next thing Taylor knew, she was on her knees and she was barfing her breakfast and what felt like every meal she ever had.

"Heh. We've got fresh meat over here, Squealer!" A very smug voice announced from nearby. "Bring me some of the good stuff. Damn, you're a skinny bitch, ain't ya? Ugh. Are those sticks or legs?"

Taylor tried to get away and scrambled back from the voice. She looked wildly around and saw a not particularly tall man wearing dirty jeans, a leather jacked and black blouse that had seen much better times. His face was mostly obscured by a skewed domino mask that did nothing to hide his leer.

"Don't worry bitch, Papa Skids will make it everything all right! We've got the best stuff!" He nodded with a self assured grin.

"Stay away!"

"Tsk. That's not the way to treat your new best friend, bitch." Skidmark shook his head. "Never mind. You'll learn."

" _Master, I can help you if you listen to me! Please!"_

Taylor was too shaken to pay proper attention to that voice. She had heard what the Merchants did to people. Saw their members at school every day. She didn't want anything to do with that!

Skidmark walked towards her and Taylor did her best to scramble back, making him laugh at her. Her back hit the wall and she screamed when he stood above her and grabbed her hair.

The world froze and her awareness expanded.

Taylor was drifting in a dark void surrounded by countless sparkling stars. Two huge shapes twisted in the distance, dancing around each other and occasionally touching which produced clouds of gleaming shards that fell towards her.

 **Destination…**

 _What?! Dimensional intrusion detected… No, you won't touch my master! Initiating countermeasures…_

Countless crystalline forms fell all around her. They glowed brightly with inner light making them look like a shower of falling stars.

 **Trajectory…**

 _User designated Taylor Hebert compromised… Countermeasures ineffective…_

The shards were beautiful. One shone brighter than the other and Taylor knew it was heading straight at her.

 _Emergency override in effect… Activating Blackwatch protocols… Dimension pocked reached… Accessing storage space… Shifting mass… Deploying nanites… Warsong system emergency activation… Accessing higher dimensional space… Void link established..._

 **Agree…** _ **Error…**_

Taylor's mind shattered. There was no other way she could describe what happened at that moment. There were jagged pieces of her awareness that were separate yet parts of a greater whole. There were ten different Taylor's freaking out… Or was there only one losing her mind in then different parts of her own mind?!

A wave of frost washed over her. Suddenly Taylor's emotions took a backstage. She could still sense them or at least an echo. She knew that they were all shunted into one of the jagged broken pieces of her mind so she could actually think. Taylor blinked in confusion at that thought. It made no sense, yet she knew it to be true.

Somehow she looked around, saw all the pieces of her mind that were looking back at her. The part that contained her emotions blanched at that and become ever less coherent, yet Taylor herself was non-pulsed. Her attention was taken by twisting void that somehow didn't exist in the middle of her awareness yet she could see it. Perceive that it was right there in front of her eyes and it was the source of the cold wave that pushed her emotions away.

It was weird. A pulsing patch of nothingness that seemingly absorbed the light. Nevertheless, Taylor could see it.

No, that wasn't the correct term. She was aware of that Void. She could feel it as if it was a part of herself, however Taylor couldn't really see it with her eyes because there was simply nothing to see.

She was simultaneously proud of herself because of that realization and disturbed because while she knew it to be true it simply didn't feel right. Yet at the same time that patch of nothingness felt right. As it always should have had a place in her mind – something that made absolutely no amount of sense.

Taylor screamed when a large formless shape made of a single crystal that she simply couldn't comprehend, slammed into the ten shards that made up her awareness. It paused, then flew at the closest one and slammed into it and tried to occupy the same space. Taylor had the vague impression of something being surprised of a great entity looking at her before moving away. The crystal felt like a parasite that was trying to infect her. It was already sending tentacles of something her mind was unable to process into the shard it latched to.

Taylor wanted that thing to go away and the Void responded. The patch of non-existence contracted, it pulsed and suddenly expanded until all she could perceive was a cold emptiness. It was a mere instant that felt like an eternity. Or was it an eternity that felt like a mere moment?

The crystal shard was gone along with that jagged piece of herself. Taylor could still sense them if she tried. They were in the Void, tucked safely away. Somehow she knew that they couldn't hurt her at least not immediately.

" _Master!"_ The chirpy voice called again. This time Taylor recognized it as female.

She blinked in confusion. Was she getting insane? Did that villain, Skidmark drug her?!

" _Master, I'm glad you're all right!"_ There was an echo of emotion in those words that Taylor could feel clear as a day. They felt warm, genuine.

"Who are you?" Taylor dared ask. There was some nagging feeling in one of her shards telling her that this wasn't a drug induced hallucination, nor simple madness.

As if she would know if it was the latter…

" _I'm me, Master! Radiant Star!"_

"Hi?"

" _Oh… Oops? Just a moment, Master! You aren't supposed to be able to do this yet. And you made a mess of things..."_ The mysterious voice huffed.

Taylor frowned. She felt something weird – like soft fingers caressing her mind if that made any sense, then her awareness shifted. It expanded a bit then shrunk and then there were eight Taylors in her mind and one in the Void. She blinked in confusion and suddenly there were only three.

" _That's better, Master! You shouldn't be running multiple virtual instances of yourself just after you got basic implants! It's not good for you!"_

"What?" Taylor blinked in confusion. She could sense the other shard of herself, where all her emotions were going practically insane and she was grateful that right then and there she could experience a mere echo from that madness.

" _Foreign presence contained. Firewalls online, quarantining partition… Ah, done! Now we can talk freely, my Master!"_

The part of Taylor in the Void vanished behind multiple walls of… was that code formed like thorny vines… The hell?!

 **Spark 1.2**

* * *

 **Taylor Hebert's mind**

"Who are you?" Taylor warily asked.

" _I'm Radiant Star, Master! Nice to officially meet you!"_

"Where are you?"

" _I'm right here!"_ Radiant chirped.

"Where?"

Moths of green light materialized in front of Taylor's face and soon she was staring open mouthed at a tiny form that was proudly beaming at her. It was a pixie no taller than her palm wearing a skintight suit made of…

Taylor blinked a few times until her mind finally processed what she was seeing. The pixie was made of light with lines of code framing her face and going down her neck until they disappeared under a skintight suit protecting her modesty – though it was really a part of her. It. Whatever…

The pixie toyed with a strand of her bright green shoulder length hair and waded at Taylor. Her emerald eyes sparkled with glee as she examined the confused teenager.

Under different circumstances, Taylor would have been hard pressed to contain herself and not squee loudly. The pixie was so cute! However, all she really got right then was a mere echo of those emotions.

"Radiant Star." Taylor nodded to herself. Her voice sounded much more calm than she felt. "Care to explain?"

" _It's a long story..."_ The pixie pouted, which made her look even more cute if that was ever possible. A part of Taylor wanted to hug her. _"And we don't have the time. Your mind is running under overclock and it can't handle much more right now."_

Taylor opened her mouth to protest before her perspective changed. She was back on the street and all she could see was Skidmark towering above her. He had a hand fisted into her hair and was very sluggishly dragging her up.

" _Sorry Master, but we're running out of time!"_ Radiant Star pleaded.

Taylor knew that she should be freaking out right now. Ah. She was sure that the part of her where her emotions were contained right now was doing just that. This was weird…

"Any ideas, Radiant?" Taylor asked.

Get away, get to safety and then figure out what the hell was happening. That sounded like a good plan. However there were a few technical difficulties…

" _How much do you know about magic, Master? What about Void manipulation?"_ Radiant Star asked.

"Magic? Really?" Taylor asked flatly. "This isn't the time for jokes, Radiant!"

" _Master..."_ Radiant huffed. _"I'm not joking! I would never do that to you!"_

"Right then. Magic?" Taylor sighed.

" _Just do as I say, Master!"_

"It's not like I have a choice." Taylor glared at the villain manhandling her at slow motion. At least she didn't feel pain from being pulled up by her hair.

As if that thought was some kind of trigger, Taylor suddenly felt the pain and grunted.

Thank you, brain! She grumbled. "Radiant, any time now!" Taylor hissed. The pain wasn't going away and - instead it was actually increasing and being pulled up by the hair was no fun at all.

" _Right, Master! Concentrate on the Void. Pull it and shape you to your will!"_ Radiant exclaimed.

"Okay..." Taylor trailed off. "How do I do that?" She asked after processing the explanation.

" _With your mind, duh!"_

"Goddamn it, Radiant!" Taylor snapped. "I need more than that!"

" _Uhh… That's pretty much it. You need to… Ah… You don't know how to meditate, or how to access your implants, much less use them as a second nature, do you?"_ Radiant chuckled nervously.

"What implants?" Taylor narrowed her eyes. She glared at Skidmark who had almost dragged her to her feet.

" _It wasn't supposed to happen like this!"_ Taylor could hear Radiant's pout in her voice. _"All right! I have an idea!"_

"Do I dare ask?" Taylor muttered.

" _Shoot them!"_ Radiant exclaimed.

"With what?" Taylor groaned. Even if she had a gun, she had never used one before. On the other hand, it wasn't like she could miss from this range.

" _Shoot me!"_ Radiant ordered. _"Point me at him and think about shooting me!"_

"Goddamn it, Radiant!" Taylor felt like face palming. "Where are you? How do I do that?"

" _I'm on your left arm, dummy! Now stop arguing and shoot me!"_ Radiant ordered.

Taylor's eyes went to her left arm where her mother's bracelet was growing warmer. That… The pain in her scalp increased. The world was beginning to move faster and she now could hear Skidmark's distorted voice. Taylor raised her left hand and noted that it was moving at normal speed unlike the sluggish villain. She pointed at the cape and frowned.

Shoot, Taylor thought and nothing happened.

" _Shoot me!"_ Radiant chirped.

"Radiant, shoot!" Taylor ordered.

Nothing happened.

"Shoot Radiant!" She snapped.

Nada.

"Shoot, damn it!"

Nope.

"What are you playing at, bitch?" The world subtly shifted and she could clearly hear Skidmark.

Taylor was out of time. Even with her emotions shunted into that other part of her, she began to panic.

"Radiantstarshoothim!" Taylor screamed.

The world went pink and the fist pulling her hair went away. Taylor blinked in confusion.

" _Warning, mental strain exceeding safe limits. Shutting down secondary partition..."_ Radiant announced just as Taylor's vision cleared and she saw that Skidmark had a huge smoking hole in the center of his torso.

Her emotions came back with a vengeance and she screamed. Taylor's mind blanked and she began drowning in terror, revulsion and horror.

" _Master! Master!"_ She heard Radiant's distant voice but couldn't think about it, about anything really.

"Skids… Nooo! You bitch, you'll pay for this!" A furious female voice washed over Taylor who was catatonic by now.

" _Warning, targeting sensors_ detected… _Master!"_ Radiant shouted.

 _Primary user mentally compromised…_ _Initiating Combat Protocols..."_ Radiant Star announced in monotone. _"Multiple threats_ _detected. Target One, designation Skidmark, deceased. Target Two, designation Squealer, locked on. Firing."_

A purple orb formed next to the shaking form of Taylor Hebert. It pulsed once and shout out forming a beam that sliced through the mangled van as if it was made of butter and burned through Squealer's chest, evaporating her heart.

" _Target Two neutralize_ d. _Target three,_ designation APC, locked on. _Firing."_

This time two dozen purple balls appeared around Taylor before shooting at Squealer's latest creation. Lances of iridescent energy bored through tinker-tech metal and expended their fury deep withing the vehicle, turning it into a burning inferno.

" _Targets neutralized. No imminent threats detected. Combat Protocols standing down. Barrier."_ Radiant Star finished her monotone and a shield formed around her master. _"Master, are you all right? Master?"_ Radiant asked with a growing concern. " _Master? Mater, speak to me? Taylor… Please..."_

Radiant manifested her holographic avatar in front of her Master's face and tried to get her attention that way, yet Taylor continued to rock where she had sat on the ground hugging her knees.


	31. Eternal Night FSNMCU crossover

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fate/Stay Night, Thor: The Dark World nor the Marvel Cinematic Universe. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial aim. I make no money from it.**

 **Eternal Night**

 **=EN=**

 **Prologue: The unknown hero**

* * *

 **Bridge**

 **Alfeneel battleship Death Dealer**

 **dark space**

Three beings stood on Death Dealer's bridge and glared at each other. The only light in the dark chamber came from the subdued glow of various control panels and was scarcely enough to illuminate the arguing Dark Elves.

"Oh, I and any other sane member of our species would agree!" The tallest of the three sneered.

"This poisonous universe is slowly killing us! Of course we agree!" The only woman on the bridge agreed vigorously. Her musical voice rang clearly across the compartment, sending thrilling shivers up and down the spines of the males.

"See! Alfyse's with me on this one!" Malekith grinned.

"Your plan is still a folly!" Gorjeth snapped. "With the Aether you we can save ourselves! Instead you want to start a war with everyone, not just the Nine Realms when we're a mere shadow of ourselves!"

"We will bring back darkness to the universe! It's our birthright!" Malekith snarled.

"Even if you succeed, everyone will be coming after us." Gorjeth shot back. "As we are we will lose!"

"You have no faith!" Malekith appeared stunned at the realization.

"That we could take on every species of note in this galaxy, much less the universe and live? Of course not. I remember the time before the light clearly! I know exactly how far we've fallen!" Gorjeth spat.

"My iljahaa…" Alfyse whispered horrified.

Gorjeth turned to look at his Queen.

"I'm sorry." Alfyse whispered.

Gorjeth's eyes widened and he _moved_.

Malekith's dagger missed the weak spot in his armor and the blade scrapped over solid plate leaving just a thin line in the alloy. The younger Dark Elf got backhanded by an armored gauntlet for his trouble and found himself skidding over the deck.

Gorjeth heard a hiss signifying blades leaving their sheathes and hissed when he sensed the poisoned radiance of light weapons. _Asgardian_ weapons. He whirled around and drew his longsword in a single fluid motion that was almost fast enough. Steel met steel, light and darkness exploded all across the bridge and Gorjeth fell to one knee when Asgardian blade slammed into his shoulder. Light exploded against his armor and tried to imbed him into the deck. Even through the best power armor his people could build, Gorjeth felt the poisonous bite of the light.

He spared a moment to thank the Hallowed Darkness for not removing his helmet earlier, then surged to his feet.

Alfyse, who had frozen for a heartbeat after bringing Gorjeth to his knees exploded into motion and her blades became a whirlwind of deadly light. Malekith charged in too, wielding a pair of long daggers which glowed with Asgardian magic.

"Why?!" Gorjeth roared in fury.

"You're either with me or against me!" Malekith snarled. "I will lead our people into a new age of Darkness!" His daggers struck only to skid over Gorjeth's armor when the taller Dark Elf twisted in the last possible moment.

Alfyse attempted to use the small opening she saw and went in for the kill. Her blades struck only to be parried by longsword and energized arm-guard. Yet the light contained in the Asgard weapons couldn't be so easily denied. It exploded against blade and armor. Gorjeth's sword answered in kind with a concentrated blast of primordial darkness.

His left hand was less fortunate. Light splashed over and around the plate with enough force to crack the bone beneath.

Gorjeth acted on reflex born from countless years of training and combat. His sword arm twisted and the longsword in his grip slipped under the blade it just parried. Gorjeth's weapon went in propelled by an instinctual response and bit through Alfyse's neck. Darkness exploded out and the Queen's head was roughly torn away from her body.

Gorjeth stared in stunned disbelief at his lover's corpse and Malekith struck. One dagger slipped under the armpit and slammed through the heart. The other found a gap in the armor covering Gorjeth's back. Then both weapons released pulses of light that seared and poisoned the ancient Dark Elf.

"Fare thee well, brother. May you find peace in the Deep Dark." Malekith whispered.

"Light Two, execute." Gorjeth hissed with his dying breath.

"Affirmative Commander." Death Dealer's VI announced. "Setting Condition Light Two across the ship..."

Malekith's eyes widened and he ran towards the closest escape pod. He barely made it before the whole battleship was flooded by deadly light potent enough to sear through power armor. When the glow went off, there was only one corpse on the bridge and it was an unrecognizable pile of ash.

"Data upload complete. Deploying messenger drones. Executing emergency jump..." The VI continued to follow its instructions.

Weeks later, when the Convergence occurred, the Asgardians knew exactly what Malekith intended to do, what forces he had.

Curiously, even as Harudheen was torn asunder by war, none of the infamous Alfeneel strategic weapons were deployed. The Dark Elves fought conventionally against the combined forces of the Nine Realms and predictably lost…

 **=EN=**

 **Time irrelevant**

 **The Throne of Heroes**

"Well, this is certainly unexpected..." Gorjeth mussed.

This place… He was surrounded by primordial darkness. There was no light to poison and weaken him. It felt almost like the few memories of home he had from before the universe was born.

Yet, it wasn't. Gorjeth knew that for sure. What was he supposed to do here? Why was he here?

"You're right about that. Hi there!" A painfully cheerful voice came from behind him. "What's a Dark Elf doing here?"

Gorjeth turned around and frowned when he couldn't see a thing besides the soothing darkness that surrounded him

"I want to know the same thing." Said Dark Elf grumbled. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm..."

"A pest. Begone!" Another voice came from the twilight. It was a woman's and the tone of command contained within it reminded Gorjeth of Alfyse.

That thought brought everything back in a torrent of memories, bringing the Dark Elf to his knees.

"Well, at least you know how to treat royalty!" The unseen woman beamed. "I'm Nero." She paused. "You need a better wardrobe. What you're wearing simply wouldn't do. Not enough red in the first place, then that design… Argh!"

 **=EN=**

Gorjeth – death;

iljahaa – lover;

Harudheen/Svartalfheim/ Dark World – The Dark Elves homeworld.

Alfeneel – Dark Elf;


	32. Dark Lording, for dummies I, II HP

**AN: This is what happens when not quite stereotypical Dark Wizard TM goes off their potions regiment and tries to prove to everyone they're right...**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling and the various publishers. This story is written with no commercial aims. I do not make any money from it.**

 **Dark Lording, for dummies**

 **=DL=**

 **Prologue: The advent of a Dark Lord TM**

* * *

 **A Dark Wizard's lair**

 **unplottable location**

 **Southern France**

Marcelie Durrand, Mac to his close, dear and very unlamented friends cackled happily in anticipation. He will show them all! Lunatic they called him! A madman! Bah! Today was the day! He was going to prove them all wrong!

"Morgana's pale behind, master! I told you to open the windows!" A young woman's voice cut through Mac's happy thoughts.

He heard a swish, then the heavy enchanted drapes keeping his laboratory properly dark moved away and the windows opened with a loud squealing sound. Merciless sunlight invaded Durrand's sanctum and he squeaked in pain when it shone in his bloodshot eyes.

"That's better. Master, we talked about this! You need more light. You're paler than a week old Inferi." The woman chirped.

"Apprentice!" Marcelie hissed venomously. "Don't you see I'm busy!" He whined. He was just gearing for a proper monologue, damn it! Merde!

Said apprentice twitched her small nose as she examined him and rolled her eyes at the sight.

"Why are you wearing that old fashioned nightdress? What's with the white mask anyway? It's all so last decade!"

"It's only proper!" Mac whined. "I'm doing my Lord's work!" He made a grand gesture to a wooden rack where a scared looking muggle was tied up with all too many chains and ropes. There wouldn't be any inconvenient last minute escapes on Marcelie's watch, no sire!

"Why did you kidnap another muggle and why is he in a nightclothes too?" The apprentice huffed and shook her head in exasperation, which made her shoulder length blond hair shake like a mane.

"He's a proof!" Marcelie eagerly explained.

"Of what?"

"Everything! I'll show them all that muggles steal our magic! Oh, I'll be bringing back our lord too!" Mac nodded. How couldn't she see his genius? It was so obvious. Why was it so hard to get proper apprentices and minions these days?!"

"Your death fearing master has been dead for about a decade or so now!"

"See! Genius! You didn't think to ask how I'll prove muggles steal magic! You like everyone else focus on my Lord!" Mac gleefully exclaimed. "When I show you that," He jabbed a clawed finger at the muggle, "can really steal magic, everyone will concentrate on that fact! No one will pay attention that I've brought back my Lord!"

"Master, what did I tell you about drinking your potions?" The woman narrowed he eyes at him. "About cutting off your fingernails before I'll need to vanish them wholesale too..."

"Apprentice, now isn't the time!" Besides who needed those potions! They made him think slowly and in much, much smaller scope! Why, the last time he drank them he willingly went out in the day! In the sun! That's not how proper Dark Wizards do it!

"Why do I ever bother..." She grumbled. "What are you going to do with him anyway?"

"I told you already! Didn't you pay any attention?! Help these days… They don't make you like in the good old days..."

"Less incest and inbred fools running around you mean?"

"Yes! It's un-thinkable! Just look at yourself! All that smooth skin! No warts, your mother is a Veela and yet here you're as my apprentice! It's improper!"

"Morgana damn it, it's not worth it..." The newly dubbed half Veela's eyes lit up with inner fire. In the rays of the morning sun her profile subtly shifted and looked positively avian.

"See! I'll show you!" Mac ignored his apprentice, whipped out his wand and began chanting in Latin.

The entire lab lit up with runic circles, potions strategically placed at the edges of five or six pointed stars began smoking choking vapors and the few shadows not chased off by the sun began moving.

"I'll have to clean up this mess, I know it..." The Veela grumbled. She took a few steps back and summoned a slab of marble to hide behind, then cast a Protego.

Something unnatural screeched from the shadows. Cold winds blew from deep withing the lab and Durrand's chanting picked up a notch. Whatever language he was speaking now, it wasn't meant for human vocal cords.

The lab shook. A snake _screamed. Marcelie_ shouted in triumph then it was his turn to howl when the shadows jumped at him and through him. He felt his blood bubble, then boil. The magic within it was siphoned out and that was a beautiful agony. Only his Lords Crucio could compare!

Marcelie could follow where his magic was going. He was right! The muggle was eating it! Uh… The muggle was eating _his_ magic. That wasn't supposed to happen!

"Master? You alive over there?"

Oh… Oh! Mac knew he forgot something in his haste to prove everyone wrong. His apprentice should be standing where he was doubled over on the floor to get her magic drained and put in the muggle. This wasn't fair! How could he rub his success in everyone's faces if he was a squib or worse?!

Marcelie gathered his remaining strength and looked up at the bound muggle. Two furious red eyes glared back. Mac was in heaven! HE DID IT! His Lord was back!

The last of Durrand's magic was forcefully torn off from his blood and he collapsed on the floor dead with a grin forever frozen on his face.

The living shadows swirled around the muggle, passed through him and then returned to normal as if afraid from the light of the sun, The unnatural wind ceased and the hissing sound were no more.

"I wish I could say this was surprising." The Veela grumbled and vanished her improvised fort. "What am I to do with you two?" She muttered at the two bodies.

"I can think of a few things. Who are you anyway, why am I tied to a medieval torture implement and why is he dead?" A cultured, English sounding voice came from the muggle. He was looking at her with a pair of crimson eyes shinning with power.

"Master, you outdid yourself this time..."

"Master? I would remember if I was your master, you can be sure of that." The muggle examined her figure and nodded to himself.

"Who are you anyway?"

"Me? I'm supposed to be a Dark Lord." He frowned. "I think. It's right mess in here. You can call me Tom. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Lydia. You talk a bit off. A Dark Lord, huh?"

"Am I?" His frown deepened. "I think you might be right…"

"About you being a Dark Lord or about your talking being strange?"

"Yes."

"Not another one..."

"Well, the one thing I remember for sure is that I'm supposed to be a Dark Lord." A pause. "I can't remember how to be a proper one however. Do you have a book on the topic? Some kind of guide?"

"What? Dark Lording for dummies or English?" Lydia rolled her eyes.

"That would be neat!" Tom looked at his restrains. He glared at them and magic pulsed around his body shredding chains and ropes alike.

"Wandless?!" Lydia exclaimed in surprise at the impossibility and pointed her wand at Tom.

"I knew a few tricks like that." He looked at the destroyed bindings at his feet. "Two, no three." Tom got away from the rack and looked at her. "What happens now? What about that guide you promised? He asked eagerly.

"You'll teach me everything you know about wandless magic and whatever other tricks you know and I'll help you be the best Dark Lord ever! Trust me about that."

Tom looked at the corpse of her former master, then back at her.

"Indeed?"

 **=DL=**

 **Prologue, Part II**

 **=DL=**

 **A Dark Wizard's lair**

 **unplottable location**

 **Southern France**

The two magicians were sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee, while Tom explained what little he remembered to his brand new self-styled accomplice. He couldn't shake off the feeling that the place was terribly old fashioned – no running warm water, no electricity for Merlin's sake. The furniture was something out of Dickens too and not the nice stuff either. It wasn't actually shabby but certainly not what someone would expect to find in the lair of a well off dark wizard.

Tom looked around the kitchen again and rethought that. It entirely depended on your expectations of what you might find in such a wizard's hidey hole.

Dark wizard… Tom was still trying to properly wrap his head around that idea. Magic came natural to him, just like breathing. It was in his very nature, he knew that for sure. Yet, in the same time there was a part of him that was excited by the very idea – as if he found out magic existed earlier today and he couldn't help but find it new and wondrous.

"It sounds like botched up Obliviation…" Lydia hummed.

"That might explain the jumble that's my mind." Tom agreed. "I know how to cast a lot of spells." He twirled Durrand's wand in his long fingers. "However I don't recall how I learned them." He frowned. "I know Tom's my name, but otherwise… Damn it." The wizard cursed in frustration.

"It sound like something Marcelie would do when he was off his potions." The witch agreed.

"What did you do with him anyway?" Tom inquired.

"Transfigured him into a marble. I'll properly dispose of him later. Rule number one: don't leave evidence laying around if you can help it or unless you plan for it to be found. Getting the Aurors on you this early will spell disaster." Lydia explained.

"Dully noted." Tom wondered what was he supposed to do now. He thought about just leaving this Dark Lord business behind, however something within him rebelled at that thought. He was the Dark Lord, he bloody earned it, damn it all to hell!

Tom took a sip from his tea, which was excellent, and returned his attention to Lydia.

"What does it mean to be a successful Dark Lord?" He asked innocently.

"Successful?" Lydia frowned. She picked up a croissant, took a delicate nibble from it and leaned back in her chair while having a thoughtful expression on her face. "I can tell you about the last two famous Dark Lords in Europe. They were certainly very powerful and dangerous wizards in their own right. How successful each of them was, that's a complicated question."

"Is it? Are any of them still around?" Tom asked. He guessed it was a matter of perspective and how you define success. Simply becoming very powerful and feared? To some that might be enough. Achieving your goals? Living to enjoy the fruit of your labors? Yes, he could see Lydia's point.

"Not exactly. One has been dead since eighty one and the other has been imprisoned in his own impenetrable prison for over forty years." The witch intoned and get back to her snack.

"Lydia, please remind me to leave myself a way to escape if I ever fancy building an inescapable prison." Tom chuckled. Getting locked up in your own prison had to be embracing, yet it was also a testament of a job well done if you couldn't escape it.

"I certainly will. Let's make that rule thirty something. I'll put up a proper list later." Lydia said after polishing off her croissant and washing it with some coffee. "Dark Lords. The last one here in Europe was an English parvenue calling himself Lord Voldemort."

Tom's hand froze in mid-air as he was bringing his cup towards his lips. "Flight from death?" He asked aloud. The name sounded vaguely familiar, something he might have picked back in the day when he was a wet behind the ears teenager. Perhaps as a joke because he found the idea of calling himself that amusing.

"I understand here in France he was viewed as a bit of a joke if somewhat dangerous as well." Lydia's forehead scrunched cutely in thought. "I recall he came in the open in the mid-seventies. He tried to topple the British ministry in one fell stroke, failed and only then began waging a war in earnest. It was terribly convenient."

"How so?" Tom's interest perked up. He intended to learn from his predecessors mistakes.

"I'll get in more detail when I cover the other Dark Lord of this age, but in a nutshell? The war across the Channel drew in all that was left of our pure blood supremacists. Most of them got conveniently got themselves either killed, broken or in prison."

"I take it their kind isn't popular in France?" Tom asked. He found the topic both interesting and conflicting. He felt like magical blood mattered a great deal… as long as it carried power and capability. He had the sinking feeling that might not be the case.

"Hell no!" Lydia exclaimed. "Inbred imbeciles most of them..." She muttered quietly. "Where was I? Voldy, right? Well, he was kinda winning. Only one man could stand against him without fear – Albus Dumbledore. If he wasn't on the field, which happened rarely, Voldemort tended to win. By eighty one a series of either defeats, Pyrrhic victories and assassinations had the British Ministry on the ropes. It didn't help that many of the old families in the islands backed the Dark Lord. He was the personification of their agenda you see – pure-blood supremacy, a guarantee for their continued political and economical power not to mention blaming everything bad happening on muggle-borns and muggles."

"He told them what they wanted to hear and they followed him?" Tom asked. It sounded too simple and neat. The real world seldom worked that way.

"Hey! I wasn't there! For better information you'll need to pick up a decent textbook or have contacts with people who fought on both sides. All I can give you is the bare bones because you certainly don't remember even that." Lydia exclaimed in indignant tone.

Did it just get warmer in here, Tom wondered. "You're right." He admitted. He wasn't too keen on upsetting the only person he actually knew. "Please continue."

Lydia glowered at him for a long moment before relaxing a bit. "Long story short, at the end of October eighty one, Voldie went after the Potters – an Auror and his wife who were opposing him since the start of the war. No one is sure what exactly happened that night, but when the dust settled, most of the house was wrecked, the Potters were dead, Voldemort had vanished and only their toddler remained. Its speculated that the Dark Lord tried to Avada Kedavra the munchkin, it backfired for some reason and he was destroyed. The kid got the ridiculous moniker the Boy-Who-Lived and Voldie the distinct pleasure of being vanquished by a baby."

"Don't use the killing curse on toddlers, is this the point? Or don't go after kids in general?" Tom wondered aloud. This story sounded like a children's fable. He wondered if the British Ministry used it as a smoke-screen to conceal how they took out Voldemort. That sounded much more plausible than a baby defeating an adult wizard, much less a supposed Dark Lord. He told Lydia so himself.

"Some certainly believe that to be the case. I've heard rumors Voldie isn't really gone too, but well..." She shrugged helplessly.

"The other Dark Lord?" Tom asked and picked up a scone – his fourth. They were bloody good.

"I can tell you much more about him. We did study Grindelwald in school and my grandparents fought in the war so I do have more reliable knowledge about him."

"The cliff notes again, please. But before we get to that story, what are we going to do?" Tom wondered.

"Well, we're having a snack and talking." Lydia pointed out brightly.

"A bit longer term." Tom sighed at her irrelevant attitude. He found it both endearing and frustrating.

"I get to be your apprentice and you teach me everything you know about magic." Lydia promptly replied.

"What do I get from the deal?" Tom asked.

"Why, my help in learning how to function in proper society, a sounding board to avoid typical Dark Lord mistakes and assistance in figuring out how to be a successful Dark Lord!"

"As in a Dark Lord who lives to enjoy his retirement outside of prison?"

"That's certainly a nice start, Tom. However, let's be a bit more ambitious than that!" Lydia smiled.

Tom felt a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach. That wild glint in her eyes, the wicked smile formed by her lips… It reminded him of someone. Tom certainly liked that expression on her heart shaped face. Yet, he wasn't so sure about the implications.

Who was going to teach him how to handle Lydia?


	33. Iron Sith SWMCU

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the movies set up in the Marvel Cinematic Universe nor any of the Star Wars movies, cartoons, games, books or comics. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **The Iron Sith**

 **=IS=**

 **Prologue I: Rebirth**

 **=IS=**

 **location unknown**

 **time unknown**

When I awoke, it was to tearing searing hot pain in my chest, right above my heart. I felt oppressive, suffocating heat which immediately brought the thought of a desert to my mind. My first instinct was to grab the Force and ensure that I was as safe as possible.

My next act was was to freeze in shock when I grasped for my power and found nothing. Well, kriff, I was in big trouble this time around. Yasalmir? Someone powerful and skilled enough in the Force to cut me off even temporarily? I could recall a few Sith artifacts that might do it. A handful of alchemy concoctions too.

A wave of dizziness slammed its ugly fist into my mind. The Force? Alchemy? What nonsense was this?

I felt like falling through an endless chasm. Memories flew past me like a moths of light. I remember being a slave. No, I was the son of Andrew Stark. No, I wasn't! I was a Sith! No, I was… I was… My head pounded as if I've drunk too much again. Huh. I haven't gotten drunk since my wife died.

What? Wife?! I'm a bachelor and proud of it! Why the hell would I tie up myself with just one woman? Besides they all get boring once we begin to talk… Like those twins last December… That was nice evening…

The pounding in my head picked up a notch. It sounded like a bunch of Gamoreans running chased by a starving Rankor.

What's with the Star Wars references?!

Who the hell was I?!

I… Stark, no Veil… Who is that?!

The pressure inside my skull increased and I knew no more…

 **=IS=**

The next time I awoke, it was still hot enough to boil someone in their own sweat. While my chest continued to hurt, the pain wasn't so sharp. Even better, my head was a bit clearer this time around. No one was trying to use my skull as a drum, though my memories were still a mess. What the hell did I drink last night?!

My nose twitched. Sweat and dust, machine oil, metal burning wood and something cooking. The last scent was somewhat familiar, though I couldn't place it.

I cracked an eye open, deciding I will be sorting out my messed up memories later and looked around. It was quite dark with dancing light coming from a fire trying to chase of the twilight. Above me was an uneven rock. Huh, a cave? That sounded wrong.

What on Earth would I do in a cave of all places?!

I tried to get up only to flinch back when something pulled at my chest which exploded in sharp pain. I groaned and looked wildly around. Only now I noticed something sticking from my nose. This was getting worse by the moment. Before I could think my hands were moving and I was pulling whatever was in my right nostril.

Something scraped through my trachea and I pulled harder, then began gasping for breath. Only now I looked at the bloody thing – a thin plastic tube. What was this, primitive central?

I forced myself to calm down. Why was I panicking anyway? Even without the Force I wasn't helpless. I froze. Again with the Force. What… I closed my eyes and fell back into the bed. I needed to sort out my head first. It took some doing but I fell back into a meditative trance and began examining my memories. There was a new set of them stuck in my head. There was no personality with them, yet they felt fresher, more tangible than the rest. I still could remember clearly that I was Delkatar Veil, the Dark Lord of the Sith. Yet, I could remember being Tony Stark… a man who was determined to waste so much potential… yet I found myself envying him. Its been so long since I could simply enjoy living day for day with no real threats hanging over my head.

How the kriff did I end up here? I tried to remember…

Explosions, shooting and fear washed over me. Stark's last memories were fragmented and confused – no real surprise for his first time under fire… while tipsy too.

I tried to remember where I knew the name Tony Stark from – I'm certain it wasn't just from my new memories. Damn, has it really been more than sixty years since I was back on Earth?

I could vaguely recall something about a man flying in a suit of red power armor. Very slim and advanced… How the hell could someone put so much tech in such a small package? The sixty years worth of engineering know how and scientific theories I forced myself to learn by heart began to to mutiny against the very idea.

I pushed the thoughts of such impossibility back. I was stuck in another dimension – for the third time I think. That explained why I couldn't reach the Force. My power might not even exist here. That realization made me shiver with fear and this time the emotion wasn't a fuel for my powers. I was just a weak, potentially wounded baseline human.

I was vulnerable.

The very thought sent a lance of red hot fury through my system. I didn't survive for decades among the Sith to give up now! I didn't claw my way to the top ranks of the Empire to let such a setback, no matter how grave, break me! If I didn't have the Force anymore I would find another source of power! Another pillar of strength! I will overcome any obstacles standing in my way. I will be free again!

I opened my eyes and glared at my surroundings. Without the Force I felt blind and deaf. The world was distant and less alive.

It was just now that I noticed I wasn't alone in the cave. Kriff, my senses were gone to shit without the Force. Or was this just Tony's fault? A not particularly tall balding man had his back turned to me and was busy shaving. I tried to get up only the get my chest painfully tugged again.

"I wouldn't do that in your place." The man pointed out.

I looked down. My chest was bandaged and there were a pair of black wires sticking out. I traced them up to a large battery of some kind resting on a wooden cupboard next to the bed.

"What the hell is that?" I rasped.

"That? It keeps you alive." The man turned around and smiled tiredly.

His face was gaunt with a thin graying patch of beard over his chin. He wore a dirty suit with a decent cut of the type I haven't seen since I was on Earth a very long time ago. A fire burning in a wooden stove nearby made his glasses shine eery in the twilight.

"I dug out all the shrapnel I could, but there was some I couldn't reach. Without that elector-magnet to keep them in place, the rest will enter your arteries and you'll be dead in a week. If you're luck." He looked around, brightened and picked up a small glass sample case which he threw at me.

I was barely able to snatch it before it hit my bandages, which made me wince. My reflexes were painfully slow even for a normal human.

"What is this?" I raised the vial to the flickering fire and looked in. There were a few very sharp pieces of metal.

"A souvenir, Mr. Stark."

Lucky me. Digging the remaining shrapnel would be easy – with the Force. Without it… What was the state of medicine back on Earth?

The man began to babble about some conference where we supposedly met a few years back, but I ignored him making the odd encouraging sound. My mind was on the shrapnel. What a stupid way to go. I looked down at the bandages. I needed to get that fixed but first – find my way to civilization.

"How did we end up here?" I asked.

"Ah. I was wondering when you would think about that." He gave me a pained smile. "Smile to the camera." He pointed a thumb over his back to the far corner of the cave.

I glanced that way and sure enough I could see a red light there. I had to squint and only now I was able to see the faint outline of a large, terribly primitive camera. Well at least that was my first impression. Who new what was under its casing…

Someone shouted in unfamiliar language outside, then there was the sound of a metal bolt being removed from the door.

"Do as I do!" The man said in frantic tone. He picked up the battery attached to my chest and put it in the center of the cave while urging me to follow his example. He put his arms behind his head and smiled nervously at the door.

I glared but followed suit. This wasn't the time for heroics.

The doors opened and a bunch of shabby looking people with guns entered. Their obvious leader came in front, spread his large arms at us and began babbling in that same unfamiliar language. Graying hair and beard, a gun stuck in his belt very large at least in comparison to the men behind him.

They were quite thin, though I could see wiry muscles on some of them. The way they held their guns – no proper training. The weapon themselves on the other hand looked brand new which was at odds with the people wearing them. They looked like your bog standard bunch of nobody terrorists slash resistance fighters. Those usually armed themselves with anything they could fudge together or steal… when they weren't supplied by someone with nice toys so they could ruing someone else's day.

This was beginning to smell on the later. I've done the odd black ops or insurgent suppression back in the day. I would recognize a bunch of fanatics who weren't exactly sure what they were doing besides fighting the 'enemy'. Yesterday I would have dismissed them as no threat at all. Today, with a battery stuck to my chest and without the Force?

The very idea that this bunch of scum could be dangerous to me grated. All I wanted was to crush them like the bugs they were. Not only these fools, but all their friends and everyone who had the bright idea of supporting them.

Instead I had to swallow my fury, bid my time and waited for the man who apparently patched me up to translate.

"Welcome, Tony Stark! The most famous mass murderer in the American history!"

I had to fight valiantly not to roll my eyes, which might get me shot somewhere survivable. What people stuck up on one insignificant backwater world know about mass murder? How many planets have they turned into glass? How many sapient species have they exterminated? How many trillions have died by their command? I bit off a sneer and smiled pleasantly.

"Thank him for the compliment." I nodded to my translator who suddenly looked like he regretted saving my life.

"Its an honor for him to meet you." The translator glared at me while our 'host' grinned and continued to speak. "He wants you to build him a rocket."

"A rocket?" I repeated. They kidnapped Tony Stark and by extension me so we could build them a rocket?! My already quite low estimate of my kidnapper's mental capacity suddenly got into a steep nosedive. The only rocket I'll be building them is the one I would strap them on before launching it.

Nah, I didn't feel that merciful.

"A Jericho missile just the one you demonstrated." The translator continued and our kidnapper stuck a piece of paper in my hands.

Huh. A paper… the last time I saw and touched paper was when I was stuck on that primitive world for six months fifteen or so years back…

The tactile feeling of paper in my feeling was quite nice. I turned the sheet around to see a picture of a missile with on its launching pad. Ah, I remembered now. Jericho – multiple independent warheads built upon repulsor technology… There was no way I would be able to built it with the tools these jokers could get their hands on. No matter. I will be building weapons, just not for them.

"It's going to be possible, but very, very hard." I smiled at the bearded man, while wondering how exactly I was going to murder the kriff out of him and his friends. "I'll need tools, parts even weapons."

The translator whose name I might have to learn one of these days continued to glare at me, but did his job.

Our host beamed at me and waved us to follow.

I took a good look at the part of the cave complex we were led through, making notes of good choke points, number of people, armaments and where supplies could be seen laying around. It was quite large cave network, which wasn't good.

Once we were outside, I frowned. There were a lot of people and weapons out here. A platoon worth, closer to two of the bastards. While not technically impossible, taking them on in a straight up fight would be suicide. While I've seen it done, that was by people with proper armor, weapons, in incredible shape not to mention the training and experience they had – only the later two points counted in my favor and without the Force I was in significant disadvantage anyway.

I needed force multipliers. Explosive too. Lots of explosives…

It was a good thing then that our host brought us to a large pile of Stark Industries gear – which these guys most definitely weren't supposed to have. Once I'm back there would be some house-cleaning. Arranged accidents too. Getting kidnapped by people wielding weapons you produced was kriffing embracing.

The bearded man said something and brought me back into the present.

"He wants to know what do you think." The translator muttered.

"That's a lot of weapons." I nodded in approval. "I'll make him something very special if he tells me how he get them."

Our kidnapper laughed at that response and began talking.

"Perhaps when you've built him the missile. He says there's everything you need to make it in here. He wants a list with the necessary gear and tells you to begin immediately."

The bearded man smiled and offered his hand. I shrugged and shook it while he spoke again.

"When you're done, he says he will let you go."

I smiled.

"No, he won't."

"No." The translator smiled too.

Well, it wast time to build myself some weapons and armor then turn this place into a graveyard. I looked back at the pile of assorted Stark Industries goodies and my smile widened.


	34. Iron Sith II SWMCU

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the movies set up in the Marvel Cinematic Universe nor any of the Star Wars movies, cartoons, games, books or comics. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not created with commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **The Iron Sith**

 **=IS=**

 **Prologue : Rebirth II**

 **=IS=**

 **A cave**

 **somewhere in Afghanistan**

"I'm surprised, Mr. Stark." The translator spoke quietly much later in the evening. "I didn't expect you to agree to built them more weapons."

"What's your name anyway? I didn't catch it." I looked up from the cup of hot tea in my hands. I've forgotten how cold could be in the desert during the night.

"Doctor Ho Yinsen." He frowned.

"Sorry, I had a lot on my mind earlier." I sipped the tea. It was strange but nice. "What choice do we have? We both know they will kill us once we've done what they want. However, they will either kill or torture us if we do nothing. At the very least this..." I waved at the workshop taking shape in our prison, "will buy us time." I needed to get in a decent shape, got the device keeping me alive improved.

"So this is it? You last act? Your legacy?" Yinsen asked.

"My legacy? Doctor, my family's legacy is war and death. The only reason why I don't have even more people after me is because I'm building toys for not only the 'good' guys but the most powerful country on the planet." That thought was amusing. America might be the sole superpower here on Earth, however in the big scheme of things that didn't mean much. A single country or a whole species still stuck in its lunar orbit weren't things that could impress me anymore.

Still… Was it being back on Earth? Or perhaps Tony's memories… This place, well not the bloody cave, was my home. I suspected there were dangers out there this planet wasn't ready for. I could do something about it once I got out and for the first time in years I could live more or less free from the legacy of the Sith, though I wasn't sure what to think about that.

"I've wondered, Mr. Stark…" Ho trailed off and looked me in the eyes. "How do you want to be remembered?"

"A very good question. I'll tell you if I ever figure it out, Doctor." I knew how I would be remembered back… was it home? I've called that galaxy so for very long time. A warlord, a monster… a failure in the end who died over his own hubris.

I finished my tea and dragged my battery back to the bed. I needed rest first, then there was work to do.

 **=IS=**

To my astonishment, I got a more or less serviceable workshop to play with by the late afternoon. How these nice folks managed to get about eighty percent of the equipment I needed in such a short time-span I wouldn't know until I could get close and personal with a few of them, which unfortunately might not happen. I couldn't afford to play with them.

I was busy killing time with the help of Ho, who was assisting me in performing a surgery on honest to god cruise missile – just another proof that more was going on than Tony has ever been aware of. Joy.

"Who exactly are our hosts?" I asked quietly hoping that the noise of our work would keep the conversation private.

"They're your loyal clients." Yinsen rolled his eyes at me as if it was obvious.

I glanced at the logo painted on the missile between us. I could see how people could get that impression. Yet, you'd think that my official customers – the US DOD would have made an issue if American soldiers got blown up with my weapons. As far as I know, there has been nothing official coming to surface about that… More questions.

"They call themselves the Ten Rings."

"I've heard of much worse names." I nodded absent-mindedly… here goes the warhead… I carefully removed it and put it out of the way. Now for the rocket fuel… Oh, the things I could to to people with it…

"What exactly are we doing?" Ho asked.

"I need some off the shelf components for power-cells among other things. Better magnet for my chest, way to power it, some way to power our way out when its built..." I trailed off and carefully looked at Yinsen.

"I'm listening..."

"We have a few problems. It so happens we're outnumbered quite a lot. While our hosts were good enough to give us a lot of weapons to play with, a few stray shots and we're done. I have some ideas about that but first," I tapped my chest. "We need to buy me some time."

And so we got to work. From Tony's memories I figured out a few very interesting things. That ark reactor he had built to power up some of Stark Industries factories – it was amazing tech. I could see how to built one, I could calculate its output too, figure out how to safely connect it to equipment too, yet, I had trouble wrapping my head around the theory, not to mention the equations that explained it didn't really make sense. They appeared to work, but…

Let's just say that I might have Tony Stark's memories, but I lacked his genius. Or madness if you want to put it that way. Eh. I had a lot of tech in my head to play with and from what I knew thanks to Tony, it should work here too.

Building a mini ark reactor with what we had was problematic. Without any really advanced equipment we had to practically craft everything by hand which took a lot of time. There were errors that set us back, not to mention the need to appear we were working on the Jericho missile too. In fact, it was faster and easier to make a compact, backpack sized fusion reactor and a couple of power-cells in the rough shape of soda cans. They and a better elector-magnet kept me alive thanks to Yinsen who had to operate on me without anything to knock me out.

That sucked, yet couldn't compare with some of the fun and games back at the Sith academy on Korriban, much less the few times I fucked up by the numbers as Baras apprentice.

Properly applied Sith lighting is much, much worse than chest surgery while awake. Its telling that I was more concerning about how effective the antiseptics we cooked up were going to be than Ho cutting my chest open.

Still, it kriffing HURT, damn it all to hell!

 **=IS=**

It took us three weeks to get the ark reactor going. It was a piece of art if I say so myself. That evening we were celebrating by getting a bit of well deserved rest and passing time by playing backgammon. I remember occasionally enjoying the game as a kid, though I don't think Tony ever touched it.

Somehow we ended up talking about home and family – painful topics, no matter who I really was.

"To Gomira and getting you back to your family." I saluted ho with my tea cup.

What can I say? The Doctor got me back on my feet so I owed him, more than one at that.

"What about you?" Yinsen asked.

"My family is dead." I admitted.

"Then you're a man who has everything yet nothing." Ho intoned. "Its sad when you think about it."

"True enough." I shrugged. More than he would ever know.

Kriffing up by the numbers and being too far away to do anything when each of my wives were murdered – by the never sufficiently damned Jedi both times was one of my greatest failures. Ashara murdered in our home because of her Battle Meditation and Bo-Katan cut down when she engaged Windu during the Jedi coup while I was on the other end of the galaxy… Well, this was a great mood-killer.

At least there were no Jedi or other such do gooders on Earth. I needed a distraction, damn it.

"I need to get my hands busy." I muttered to Yinsen and went back to making servo-motors for the exo-skeleton we were building.

Getting the job done while building a couple of fake missiles was challenging but at least we had visual proof we weren't siting on our hands or obviously plotting mischief. It bought us the time we needed to figure out how to make a decent armor with what we had, because surprise surprise, the things needed for a combat exo-skeleton and those to build a proper missile were quite different.

Well, for the most part…

The hardest thing to hide were actually the pieces of the armor once we created them. We had to deliberately keep the clutter up to manage it but it happened.

In comparison, making a pair of arm-mounted coil-guns, a flamethrower using modified rocket fuel and adding micro rockets was quite simple. On the other hand mounting everything on the armor once it was done and ensuring I would be able to fire without blowing myself up – that was a challenge.

Making weapons is reasonably easy. Often its harder to create an effective platform to deploy them from. Frankly, I would have preferred to use an assault rifle or two, but no one was dumb enough to give them to us. Making enough conventional ammo to shoot my way out turned out to be harder with what I had on hand so that's why I went with the coil-guns. It wasn't like we were hurting for energy. The ark reactor and bunch of power-cells saw to that. The fusion one would be better but hauling it too would have required much more sophisticated exo-skeleton. All the weapons and armor were already straining what our kit-bash Frankenstein could haul.

In the end the biggest challenge was to get everything to work with minimal computer support because we simply didn't have much to work with on that front. Honestly, building the control system for my portable fusion generator was so much easier it wasn't even funny.

It took us bloody months stuck in that cave. How we weren't found by the US military in that time I would never know. Yet, we did it in the end, just in time too, because our hosts were getting increasingly impatient and even more unpleasant…

 **=IS=**

 **Prologue, Rebirth 3**

 **=IS=**

 **A cave slash an irritated Sith's workshop**

 **somewhere in Afghanistan**

No plan survives contact with the enemy, even if they were bunch of zealots hiding in a cave in the desert. Unfortunately for our hosts, I've been trained by some of the nastiest murderous commando types the Sith Empire ever produced. They gave me months to prepare too with minimal supervision.

That's why when the exo-skeleton was ready, we mined the door, prepared a few remote detonated surprises along with a bunch of grenades for Yinsen and only then did we get the armor set up for deployment in a blind spot for the only camera too. Getting inside the kit-bash war-machine was a long and arduous process which would likely get us noticed even if we started late in the evening.

It did too. We were three quarters done when our hosts got a wind of something being wrong and began bashing on the door and screaming at us.

"Not happy, are they?" I quipped.

Before Yinsen could answer someone opened the door and got blown up by a couple of canisters with compressed air.

"Oh, god… It actually worked!" Ho exclaimed.

"Help me up, we don't have much time!" I snapped.

Yinsen frantically nodded and helped me get on the rest of the armor. Now we had to wait for the bare bones operation system to load and initialize. Hope that it would work too, because it wasn't kike we had time for testing everything properly.

That's why the grenades and mines were for – good luck charging through them.

I was stuck waiting and listening to a lot of fanatical screaming cut short by sharp explosions. Even more screaming followed when Ho kriffed up and threw one of the rocket fuel specials – a loud fooosh, then hows as people burned alive.

What a nice start for the evening.

"Come on!" I snapped at the old laptop uploading the suit's OS.

The status bar was at 90% and going up slowly. Too slowly, because I could hear more of the bastards approaching.

"I'm halfway through the grenades!" Yinsen shouted.

"Throw a few and go get yourself a gun. Use them to suppress them!" I shouted back.

It wasn't exactly a rocket science!

More explosions. Was that chanting coming from the tunnel? One more detonation complete with dying screams and Ho was back. He stumbled next to me covered in sooth and hefting a machine gun that looked more or less intact.

"I think it worked!" Yinsen gave me a manic grin.

The laptop pinged. My exo-skeleton came to life with whine under different circumstances I would find concerning.

"Now, you remember the last part, right?" I carefully lifted a hand and pointed at the fusion generator. Those babies usually couldn't go make boom. There were safety precautions to avoid it, which I didn't bother putting in, not to mention they were generally safe designs which couldn't go boom.

I had to modify this one to have the option.

Ho nodded and went to put in the ignition sequence. Now we had twenty minutes to get away before this cave network was kriffed up by an angry sun.

I made my way to the door and grinned at the Doc's handiwork. He blew up at least twenty of the bastards if all the bits and pieces I could see were anything to go by. Good man. I might just have a job offer for him once we're out and back somewhere civilized.

"Ho, don't forget your part of the plan! I'll keep them focused on me, you keep low and grab some provisions!" I ordered and strode out in the tunnels. It was time to put this armor to the test.

My first two victims were carefully sneaking toward us. Once they saw me they froze for a moment whispering something about a Jinn. Before they could recover from seeing an armored giant coming from the smoke, I raised my arms and shot them with the coil-guns. Thoom. Thoom. The shots echoed through the tunnel. They were effective enough against unarmored people – a single hit in the torso put the terrorists out of commission.

The next client came in charging, probably hoping to surprise me. I backhanded him in the wall with enough force to cave in his chest. I think his head cracked too but couldn't see in the twilight.

So far so good. Now I needed to hope that no one wielding heavy weaponry could hit me or I was a goner.

There was only one last unfortunate soul waiting for me next to an open set of doors. He was turned to scream down the tunnel and got shot for his lack of attention. Ah, it was good when the people who were trying to off me weren't professionals for once!

Reaching the exit was underwhelming. I expected more resistance, but Yinsen saw to that. Only at the entrance I faced trouble. A kriffing bastard with a grenade thrower almost nailed me but missed. The grenade blew up down the tunnel behind me, hopefully missing Ho who should be scavenging supplies.

I didn't miss and two slugs tore through the bald man. His buddies lit me up, but the armor held. Thoom. Thoom. Thoom. Thoom. Four more were cut down in as many shots and the last two ran out.

Now it was going to get tricky. There were two fifty cal emplacements outside, though only one could bear on the exit. At least that was the case the last time we were allowed out.

I switched on the flamethrowers and sent jets of fire to provide some cover and terrorize the locals. A hail of fire met my exit, then I sent the only two smoke grenades we could cook up safely. Technically we could have made more though those would be quite bit toxic. The smoke from the rocket fuel was bad enough.

Fire and coil-gun fire saw to those near the exit. Hitting the HMG emplacement with a micro rocket turned out as hard as I feared – it was more luck than anything else that saw the last blow it up. That left at least one more emplacement with an unknown number of the bastard skulking through the valley.

This was going to suck.

Fire, smoke and screams. Bullets glancing off my armor or embedding in the Kevlar – that kriffing hurt. My flamethrowers ran dry and I released the tanks, then kicked one of them at a bastard trying to blow us both with an RPG from point blank range, then hosed him with both guns for good measure.

Two terrorists popped from my left and emptied their magazines in my side. For a change they didn't spray and pray but aimed. That saw my left arm lock up and the leg on that side began acting up. I shot them with my right gun before they could reload but I was crippled.

Shit. That wasn't good. On the bright side it was night and the only real light came from the fires I lit up, which were behind me so I got some concealment to work with. On the other hand the primitive exo-skeleton I wore wasn't exactly stealthy…

A deadly game of cat and mouse followed and a few of these mice packed RPGs too. Fortunately apparently everyone who could shoot straight got killed earlier or I wold have died before I ran out of terrorists to maul.

The last HMG emplacement turned out to be tricky. I had to scavenge for a grenade thrower, then ammo for it. Reloading with one properly working arm was a pain too, however, actually hitting close enough to the gunner to send him tumbling out of his little nest happened on the first try.

God must be looking out for fools, madmen, ships called the Enterprise and Tony Stark. Either that or whoever stuck me in this body didn't want to see me get myself killed just yet. I'm sure otherwise I would have been dead.

I took a deep breath. The scent of of death and battle – it was quite nice. Now it was time to pick up Yinsen if he was still alive and run before my farewell package ignited.

I looked over the valley. Huh, I don't remember setting up that many fires…

"Stark! Let's get out of here!" Ho shambled up to me loaded with two large bags and flamethrower. He was grinning like a loon too.

Damn it, I'm good! I got the man corrupted by accident and I didn't even have the Force anymore!


End file.
